Red and Wright
by Verindectane
Summary: Apocalypses have a strange way of inverting reality. The permanent collapses. The impossible thrives. Mothers become generals. Writers become agents. It's a strange place to discover love, but that's the magic of a world stripped clean of rules. All Samantha had to do was choose. [Piper x F!SS. Alternating views. Slow burn. Act II.]
1. Chapter 1

Samantha Red _didn't_ go to Concord.

She was too weak. Too scared. Too shaken by her jump through time, and all that it had cost her.

Standing at the hilltop, looking down on what was left of town, all that she could think of was the last time she had been here. Everything had fallen under the same sick pallor of decay, since then.

She fell to her knees, fingers running over the ring she'd taken with her. _He wasn't coming back._ No one was. She felt her throat crack, her face tighten. She did nothing to fight back the tears. Her eyeliner began to run — _God, she still had the same makeup on as from_ _the morning, back before... before..._

But she couldn't bring herself to even think the words.

The pop of distant gunfire shook her back into the present. That was the other reason she chose to keep her distance; she was in no shape to wander through a town where gunplay was a common law. Sam had no clue _what_ the common law was, of anybody, anywhere. She could make an educated guess, but didn't like the answer.

She _did_ know what rules she planned to play by on her own, though. Nate was gone, but Shaun was out there, and so was _he_ , whoever _he_ had been. She'd never forget his face. A twisted hope took root inside of her — that _he_ was still alive, just so she could murder him herself. Even in the fallout of such hate, hate enough to burn the world, there were still a few things worth seeking revenge for.

* * *

It wasn't long before Sam realized that her aimless wandering was going to get her killed. More than once, a vagrant clad in scraps had noticed her, and shot on sight. She was _not_ a fan of guns.

It was this damn jumpsuit. It stood out like a neon sign against the washed-out wasteland. She took passing refuge in what once had been a house, turned drawers and dressers inside out in search of something to change into. Her sense of propriety was rapidly diminishing. The old world was gone; she had no more obligation to be a pretty housewife.

A handful of garments lay strewn across the floor. She wondered who these clothes had once belonged to. Where they had been when the bombs fell. If they'd had anyone to hold and love before the shockwave struck. Samantha wondered the same about herself — if there was any love left in the world, if she would ever find someone to hold her again, to say _'You're gonna be ok.'_

She picked out a vaguely tarnished shirt and pair of jeans. The natural fabric felt amazing, even under the circumstances. Or perhaps, especially so. After 200 years frozen against Vault-suit silicate, her skin was _begging_ for the chance to breathe.

Then she noticed the smoke.

Stepping back outside, she followed the trail of wisps back to earth. _There_ , just off from what once had been a crossroads. Two figures, one tending a campfire, the other lying down on some sort of sleeping bag. They each looked to be dressed in clothes like hers — a far cry from whatever _things_ had taken potshots at her earlier.

She discarded the blue jumpsuit like the funeral gown it was, and headed down the hill, towards her first potential bid at civil interaction.

* * *

The setting sun beat merciless and hot, its final rays casting the doctor's grey hair in an orange glow.

"And another word of warning, girl. Keep a close eye on your radiation out there. They say one of the Bombs fell not too far from here. It'd do terrible things to that pretty face of yours. Wish _my_ skin had been that smooth when I was your age! Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't," Sam replied, looking up, arms wrapped around her knees. _First human kindness I find, and I can't bring myself to open up or say a damn thing._ She feared judgment, misunderstanding. Her tale felt unbelievable even by this world's standards. She hoped that the politeness in her tone would be enough to make the other woman understand.

"Right..."

She made a gesture to suggest she didn't like the subtext, but respected it. "Well, kid..." the doctor sat down next to the her and kicked an errant coal back into place. "Welcome to the Commonwealth. She ain't much, least not compared to the stories I've heard handed down. But seeing as you look to be from... somewhere _else_... well, I guess you'll make your mind up for yourself, in time. Here, something for when you hit the road tomorrow, before I forget."

Sam leaned forward on the mattress pad to see what she had pulled from her pack. The clamor of Concord was still audible in the distance, but sitting here, in the company of folks who cared enough to talk, to _give_ , the nightmares of the past and future seemed a bit more far away.

The older lady handed her what looked to be an industrial syringe, complete with tubing and a gauge on top. "It's only good for one use, but damn if it can't save your life out there."

Her memory reeled. She'd seen this before. "It's a... a stimpak, right? I remember reading about these. They came out back—" but then she realized what she was about to sound like, and held her tongue. She pocketed it gently, praying it didn't jab her through the denim cloth. "Thank you again, Doctor..."

"Anderson" she said back with a smile. "Just Anderson is fine. Now why don't you lie back and rest? You look like you've had a rough day."

Reluctant, yet grateful, Samantha nodded in silence, and curled up into the makeshift bed. It didn't have the comfort of home — could anything out here, ever? — but at least she was alive.

Internally, she laughed at Anderson's words. _Rougher than you know_.


	2. Chapter 2

Piper Wright kicked back in her chair and gazed at the terminal. The lines of glowing text had ceased to exist as standalone units of thought; they had taken on shape, form, personality. That was how she knew she was done. Sure, the article wasn't perfect — _nothing she wrote ever was_ — but it was good enough to publish. Good enough for all of Diamond City to read.

 _Whoever cares enough to read it_.

She took this attitude with herself sometimes. It never helped, but, try as she did to block it out, she couldn't deny that self-doubt was an inherent part of her process. An emotional truth, far different from the kind of truth she was used to looking for.

She leaned forward again and took a sip of Nuka-Cola. Everything seemed a bit less sour when she had something sweet to focus on. _Such a kid_. Seriously though, she told herself, this article was going to be fine — heck, she'd be disappointed if it _didn't_ cause a stir!

She cracked her knuckles and reached for a blank sheet. All she had left to do was write it up as a master copy for the press. Her pen strokes were patient, delicate, _futile_. No matter what she tried, she couldn't match the calligraphy of papers from before the war. How they got each letter to look so exactly the same as its siblings, serifs and all, was _beyond_ her. But as much as she craved perfection, she knew she didn't need it. What she needed was to _get this out_ , so she could get on the road.

* * *

"Don't you _think_ this is going to make people _mad_ with you?" were Nat's first words as she put the master copy down.

Piper laughed like no one else could make her. "Sure do!" She frazzled her sister's hair, and Nat answered with a scrunched nose and bared teeth. The reporter pulled her hand back and continued.

"But that's the risk in this job, isn't it? Diamond City deserves to know when there's a chance that it could be in danger. And honestly, what's the worst they could do in response?"

Nat made another face, this time to say that she was only halfway buying it, but after a moment her expression leveled out. "Sis... do you really think the Mayor is one of _them?"_

 _Always asking questions_. Piper was proud of her. She sat down and sighed. "I don't know, kiddo..." she trailed off briefly; talking about herself always made her a bit uncomfortable. Nat eyed her. "Really, I don't! I guess that's why I wrote about it. Folks need to remember there are questions still worth asking."

Her sister seemed to accept this answer. She jumped up, her mind clearly shifting gears. "Can I run the printing press again this time?!"

Piper beamed. "I was going to ask if you would! I need to go out of town for a day or two. Got word from a contact. Says they've got a story for us."

Nat nodded, her face instantly stern. "Better get _going_ then, sis. The _sooner_ you leave, the _sooner_ you get back!"

Piper chuckled back and answered in an understanding affirmative. She checked to make sure her pack was stocked, grabbed her press cap, and her scarf — the nights were definitely starting to get cold again.

She turned to Nat before heading out the door. They locked eyes, each one instantly understanding the other. Sisters were like that, regardless of age. Piper loved so much about her sister — her _passion_ , her _support_. Outside of the paper, Nat was practically all she had. A smile crept over each of their freckled faces, and like that, she was off.

* * *

Piper had a tendency to travel alone. She joked about others not being willing to get into trouble like she was, but — honestly? — the truth was, no one seemed to _care_ about things the way that she did. Taking detours to explore something new and unknown. Striking up conversation with wandering settlers, helping out if needed. Even just stopping to admire the wreckage of the ancient, fallen metropolis. This citadel they'd once called Boston.

 _To have seen this place in its prime_. Her feet kept moving, but her mind was lost in the recesses of an unknowable past. How many people must have lived here. How tall and colorful and _bold_ the buildings must have been. She wondered what it would have felt like to ride in a _car_. And the _people_ — what had they been like? Radiant, majestic, raised to match the grandeur of their own utopia? Or perhaps they were humble, flawed, no different than the likes of her. She wasn't sure which reality would astound her more.

She took a break from daydreaming to get her bearings back. The maze of roads and buildings could still sometimes disorient her. "What I'd give for a map." Or better yet, a guide. Someone to point the way, and maybe keep her company. Who wouldn't judge her for the things she thought and said. She rememberd past adventures when, so full of longing for a friend, she'd spoken out loud to herself, as though addressing some invisible partner, or plotting the narrative of her next article. She had blown her cover in a tight spot more than once, that way.

On second thought, maybe a traveling partner wasn't such a good idea after all. She reached into her pocket for a stick of gum, something to get her mind off things.

Landmarks were starting to line up. Broken billboard, upright lamppost on the opposing corner, a left turn here and — _ah, here we are!_ She'd used this old shop as a rendezvous point before. That didn't make it any less creepy to head into by her lonesome. She reached for her gun, not hoping, but _anticipating_.

On third thought, yeah, Piper would have _definitely_ welcomed some company right then. Even if only to guard her back.


	3. Chapter 3

Food, shelter, and water that didn't make her vomit. Samantha was generally able to scrape out two of them at any given time. Life was hard out here, but she was making do. On a good day, when she found all three, she was even a little proud of her survival.

Today looked to be a good day.

She had smelled the place before she'd seen it, and what a welcome sight it was. A whole shack, refitted to be some sort of open kitchen. Vegetables laid out on tables. A fridge-full of meat (though meat from _what_ , she didn't want to know). A pot of water in the back, still simmering. This was the first real semblance of a _settlement_ Sam had seen, and she was giddy. Sadly, whoever ran the place appeared to be out at the moment. A pity; she imagined they'd make for some pleasant conversation. That was the fourth essential resource, and one that Sam was critically low on: _company_.

She rummaged through her pockets — apparently the world used _bottlecaps_ as currency, now — and walked up to the front counter. She could have just grabbed what she wanted and ran, but Sam was determined to do right by this place. Whoever had gone through all this effort deserved to be treated fairly.

But she never actually got to put her caps down on the counter, for as she walked up to the register, she saw her. Slumped over in her chair, neck twisted in a way that just looked _wrong_ , eyes gone glassy. A drop of blood escaped her open mouth.

Samantha stumbled backwards, hands only partly muffling her wail of horror. Adrenaline rushed. Her stomach inverted. All this woman had wanted was to be civilized, and look where it had gotten her. Taken advantage of. Dead without dignity.

But her body froze — and her grieving with it — as she heard a guttural, booming voice behind her.

"WHAT? WHO'S THERE?"

She wheeled about to see... someone — some _thing_ — crashing through the brush towards her. It was large, muscular, the color of bile. And it was _not alone_. Sam panicked, looked every direction for a place to hide. There was a back-room door, but the knob refused to turn. _Locked_. She considered the fridge, but the grates were rusted in place; she'd never fit inside. She turned back to face the counter, choked back nausea, and ducked behind it. She was nearly _touching_ the woman's corpse.

She noticed a revolver lying on one of the inner shelves, felt her heart tighten as she wrapped her fingers around the grip. She wasn't ready to fire a gun — _like it would even matter_ , against something as big and burly as what she'd seen. The monster came closer, set foot on the concrete floor. Sam shut her eyes like a frightened child. Sound was all she had to go on.

 _Footsteps_ , reverberating through the floor, that slowed, then stopped. Slow, heavy, grunted exhaling. Quick, sharp inhaling, like a beast.

 _A voice_ , more distant than the first but similar in nature. "WHAT IS IT?" An equally distant third. "MORE HUMAN?" Then the first again, closest of the three — she could hear its words as much as she could feel them.

"NOTHING. NO HUMAN. NO FIGHT."

 _Relief_. The quiet sound of her own breath returning to her. Grumbled complaints, muffled by distance. Footsteps again, diminishing in volume. The crash of brush. The rustle of leaves. A drop of blood. Silence.

 _Had those monsters caused this?_

* * *

She used the broadside of the shovel to pack the earth in tight. For lack of a tombstone, she made a small cairn. This woman deserved better than what she'd gotten. The least Sam could do was try to give her a proper burial.

She wiped sweat from her brow. Her eyes stung. Life was more than hard out here, it was _fighting against_ her. She felt like she could feel her days ticking down, that it was a matter of time before her ironic luck ran dry. Ironic for how with every new trauma she lived through, she only felt like she was dying more.

Sam dragged her feet as she headed back inside. _All this food would go to waste, now_. Some of it could go with her, but she wasn't hungry for anything. She chopped meat and vegetables regardless, tossed them in the pot to cook. She wondered what the point was of cooking anymore. She'd always done these things for others. Now she was alone, and it was killing her.

The soup was terrible. But it would hold off death for at least another day. There looked to be about an hour left of sunlight, and Samantha desperately wanted to feel secure by nightfall. She tried the door again — locked, just as it had been, and nowhere had she found a key.

Lockpicking was a _thing_ , right? She looked around for something small she could jam into the keyhole. A screwdriver from a toolbox she found outside. Bobby pins from her own hair. Minutes that felt like hours. Cursing, giving up, trying again. And then — it clicked. _She was in_. She almost laughed. It was the first time she felt like she'd taken a matter into her own hands, instead of merely stumbling forward, waiting to see what this living nightmare had in store for her next.

The inner room turned out to be empty. _Probably cleared out long ago_. She pulled the door shut and locked it behind her. She leaned against the wall, slid down it until she lay curled up on the floor, her breaths more like protracted sighs.

Perhaps tomorrow would be better. Perhaps something, some _one_ , would make it better. She didn't need Nate anymore — didn't want him, even; he'd just remind her of everything she'd lost — but having _no one_ in her life _at all_ was starting to really take its toll.

Vaguely safe, vaguely nourished, starving for companionship, Samantha welcomed the numbing escape of sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The torn cloth tasted like dust and fallout, but Piper kept her teeth clenched as she finished tying off the bandage with her one free hand. The sunset's glare kept getting in her eyes, forcing her to readjust. First aid was not her favorite pastime.

 _This would be so much easier with_ _someone else_ , but she made do. It looked like the knot would hold, and it wasn't like she was critically wounded. That was the problem. The shot had only grazed her — not enough to warrant a stimpak, but still enough to hurt like hell.

 _Damn Gunners_ , picking fights with innocents, shooting just because they could. Piper sighed; she had no one to blame but herself, and knew it. If she hadn't gone so far off her usual route to make sure her informant got home safe, she'd be home by now herself, and probably without this burning in her arm. Once again, kindness had gotten the better of her, and now she was going to have to spend the night in an abandoned house because of it. Traveling alone at night was _not_ wise.

She pulled an old mattress into the corner and gathered her belongings around it, including what remained of the sheet she'd used for gauze. _Been a while since I've camped out like this_. She wanted to say the words out loud, if only to herself. Thinking without speaking left her feeling _stifled_. But she was not completely sure the Gunners had given up on tracking her. Better to keep quiet for now. She leaned back against the wall and took a few minutes to simply admire the golden light of sunset, pouring in through ancient glass.

The tranquility didn't last for long, left to nothing but the wanderings of her own worrisome mind. Would she really be safe here for the night? Would Nat worry in her absence? Everything would work out when she got back to Diamond City... right?

She reached into her pack and pulled out a box of gumdrops. Real food would have definitely done better by her, especially for healing up her wound, but she couldn't deny how much she loved the occasional pre-war sweet. Today had definitely ended in a scrape, a mark against her best attempts at keeping a hopeful outlook. She felt the urge for something that would comfort her.

Piper also reached into her trenchcoat and withdrew her trusty notebook, to consult what she had jotted down from her little news-gathering journey. _Best to do it now while there's still natural light_. She had a flashlight with her, but wasn't in the mood to risk attracting ferals. She flipped through pages of rapidly scrawled notes. A couple of leads from Goodneighbor, some fluff about a settlement "outside" the Commonwealth, _whatever that means_. Unconfirmed hearsay about a surviving band of Minutemen — definitely something to investigate. But then she got to the last page. The crown jewel. The story that had excited her so much, she'd offered to escort her contact home for a scouting job well-done.

A _vault dweller_ , Pip-Boy and all! A woman, she'd heard, roughly Piper's build and age, with medium-length red hair. Apparently she was traveling the Commonwealth unarmed _and_ alone. Adding to the intrigue, her contact had _also_ caught word of a Vault 111 suit, recovered not far out from Concord.

Vault 111! Had anyone _ever_ come out of 111? Piper wanted few things more in that moment than to get her hands on this woman. Her very own firsthand account of life in a vault! An _undiscovered_ vault! A fresh perspective for everyone content to make ruts in Diamond City. This would be _perfect_ for her next article.

Piper excitedly gnawed on her candy, mind continuing to spin, until the last of the sun's rays vanished from the opposing wall. Her daydreams faded into a gradual realization that twilight had come. Setting her food and notebook down, she quietly inched to the windowsill, thoughts decelerating. This was her favorite time of day. The breeze had yet to turn from cool to cold, and the sky was not yet black enough to scare her inner child. Piper rested her head atop her forearms, and looked up to the sky. She had to wait no more than a minute for it to happen.

And _there they were_. Those inexplicable little specks of light that glittered in the darkness. Even between abandoned skyscrapers, they made the sky look bigger, _more_. A simple, quiet joy consumed her. Her fears evaporated — Gunners, ferals, mirelurks, darkness, her future, _Nat's_ future, the Mayor, _the Institute_. Nothing could scare her, when she was lost among the stars.

A humbling, quiet joy consumed her. Yet for all that it made her happy, it also made her sad. What she wouldn't give, for someone to share in this sense of wonder. Sobered by her loneliness, Piper broke eye contact with the sky and inched back over to her makeshift corner of a home. She took her steps one at a time. A creaky floorboard could catch the interest of a nearby hostile. That was her pragmatic cover of an excuse, anyway — the truth was, noises in the night just made her scared.

She settled into the mattress and pulled the old sheets up around her. Even after so many nights and years in the comfort of Publick Occurrences, she hadn't forgotten what it felt like to sleep outdoors. It was like her time with the caravan all over again. Not that remembering it made it any more enjoyable.

She felt the warmth of sleep approaching. For a single moment, her mind flickered to the thought of that nameless vault dweller she'd heard rumor of. She wondered what it must be like for someone of that perspective, to step into a world like this, uneducated and alone. But the sympathy blurred as Piper slipped into the quiet of the night. Tomorrow she'd be back in Diamond City. Everything would probably be _just_ _fine_.


	5. Chapter 5

_Diamond City_. The way so many people talked about it, Samantha half expected a scene from The Wizard of Oz.

She'd finally found a way across the river, and was starting to wander through what remained of downtown. The sound of gunfire never completely fell out of earshot anymore. _Too many people fighting over the same_ _dead scraps_. In what she took as a good sign, the prospect of combat was not proving to be a source of anxiety anymore. She didn't have a reason to take up arms and fight for any particular side in this new world, but she felt _ready_ to fight, if the moment called her to.

It would help to have a weapon, though.

Then again, if these signs were to be believed, perhaps she wouldn't need one. _Almost_ _there! Clean water. Protected by The Wall_. Sam followed the arrows, warm excitement growing in her chest. No matter the sounds of gunfire up ahead — surely these arrows would guide her _away_ from the violence.

 _Right?_

* * *

"Get _down_ , lady!"

Sam dropped back behind the register as bullets cut the air above her. She wanted to apologize a dozen times to the guard, but barely managed one. "I- I'm sorry, I was just trying to see what... what was attacking us!"

He turned to look at her. Behind the goggles and the catcher's helmet, she had no idea what kind of expression he was making at her.

 _"Super Mutants_ , that's what's attacking us! Now stay low, and let us deal with this, alright? Or, if you _don't_ just want to wait and die, and you've got a gun, feel free to point it in _that_ direction!"

He pointed towards the clamor as he ran out of sight. Samantha sat for a second to regain her composure. She didn't have a gun, and didn't feel like she'd be able to fire one even if she did. But she felt even _less_ able to sit here and cower while others put their lives on the line.

Staying low, she darted between shelves of the old shop they'd taken for cover. She ducked around to where she figured the guard had gone, and opened her mouth to speak.

But then she saw the way that he was lying, face down in his own blood. Saw the impossible dent in the back of his helmet. She knew the time for conversation had passed. She'd never get to thank him now, for saving her life.

Samantha felt anger — at those things, those _Super Mutants_. She felt anger at the world. Anger at _everything_. Her eyes fell to the guard, to the baseball bat velcroed to his back.

 _If you don't just want to wait and die..._

And she was off. Bat in hand. Through the crossfire. Directly into the nearest monster.

Her first swing sent the gun flying right out its hand. Her second knocked teeth loose and made the creature yell its guttural yell. Her _third_ , and it was stumbling backwards. _Fourth_ , and it raised an arm in self defense. _Fifth_ , and it was on the ground. _Sixth_ , she almost felt bad for how much it cried. _Seventh_ , her grief went silent. _Eighth_ , so did its crying. _Ninth_. _Tenth_.

Eventually, someplace past the realm of counting, she relented, looked at the bloodied mahogany between her hands. _Forget guns_. Here was a weapon she could get behind.

A yell came from above her. _More of them_. Samantha snuck up the stairs, her footsteps masked by gunfire. It was looking away from her — _perfect_. She took half a breath to line up the strike, weapon raised behind her back.

 _First_.

And it was down. The wet cracking sound of its skull lingered in her ears, risking nausea. She had to keep moving. Past the corpse and up the stairs she ran. One more mutant, just down the hall.

She charged, building up swing as she went. But as she unloaded her hate into that first crippling blow, the mutant turned around and caught it, _all of it_ , in the palm of its enormous hand.

Sam went cold. The monster looked at her and grinned. One yank of its arm and the bat flew out of her hands and across the room. Its other arm spun and struck her across the chest. The room rushed past her, then suddenly stopped with a loud and painful crash. Sam slid against the wall, unable to move, unable to feel. The world fell out of focus.

* * *

She woke up to the burning chill of multiple stimpaks. A guard knelt down beside her. She instinctively took his hand and squeezed, like a little girl at the doctor's office.

The guard — his expression shielded like all the others — simply helped Samantha to her feet. He steadied her, waited silently until she was standing on her own, then laughed.

 _"Damn_ girl, going in there with nothing but a _swatter?_ You're crazy as us! Fight like us, too. Pity, though, those guys we lost..."

Apparently the skirmish was won — thanks, in some small part, to her. The guards even let her keep the mahogany bat she'd used. It was definitely splintering, but that could be fixed. For now, she just wanted to get inside, and the city itself was dead ahead.

As the entrance came into view, she took in the sight of it all. Metal plating, gathered from a dozen different sources. A great white diamond painted front and center. Hydraulics large enough to lift a house. She was lost in awe, and also hope. People really could still work together, to make something bigger than themselves.

But her waxing was interrupted by the sight and sound of a young woman yelling and waving her arms. She had long black hair with a cap on top, and was in a cute red trench coat. Sam raised an eyebrow. _Is this gal ok?_ She quietly walked over to investigate. Perhaps she could help. Perhaps she could make a friend.


	6. Chapter 6

Piper slammed the door to Publick Occurrences so hard it shook the corrugated metal walls. She'd expected to cause a stir with The Synthetic Truth, but _not like this_.

Disgusted and frightened and humbled all at once, she climbed upstairs, crawled into her bed, and lit a cigarette. Today had gone rough in a way that no candy could make up for. She was home now, but mere minutes prior, home had felt impossibly far away.

She'd been locked out. Shut out. _The Wall itself_ , an icon of insurmountable protection, had turned against her, had declared _her_ the monster that nobody wanted or loved. Her yelling, her joking, her hand gestures in front of the intercom — they had all been part of her act, as much for others as for herself, trying to cover just how close she had been to going into hysterics from it all.

That was, until _she_ had come along.

Piper took the cigarette in one hand and fell backwards onto her mattress, staring up at the rusted, dimly-lit ceiling. _That had been her!_ The vault dweller! There was no mistaking it; the description lined up perfectly. Her build, her age, her hair... _wow, yeah_ , they weren't kidding when they talked about her red hair. What she didn't get was how there had been no prior mention of her eyes — they'd caught her attention instantly. Bright, like burnt steel, or perhaps the color of a chrome-reflected sky. She thought back to when the two of them had first made eye contact. How it had caused a momentary stutter in her focus, in her fear.

She blinked. The ceiling came back to the forefront of her attention. _Seriously?_ Was she just lying here, _daydreaming?_

She rolled over, sat herself upright on the side of the bed, tried to get her focus back. That had _definitely_ been the vault dweller. Even if she hadn't paid attention to her looks, the Pip-Boy alone was enough of a giveaway. And they had _talked_. _More_ than talked, Piper had invited her to _visit_.

She didn't need to survey the house to know it was a mess. She jumped up, a new sense of purpose driving her. She finished off her smoke, and started tidying.

* * *

It wasn't long before her mind was wandering again. _Damn_ if that vault dweller gal hadn't brightened her day by at least a couple of shades. The way she'd clearly seen through the Mayor's facade, tried to twist his words and clout against him to gather information — in a lot of ways, a lot of good ways, it reminded Piper of herself.

She knew she wanted an interview with the woman, and setting was a crucial part of any good examination. Your mark had to feel comfortable, but never quite secure. Keeping the questions coming was an important part of that, as well; it kept the other party from pausing to regain their confidence, from letting them take control of the conversation.

Piper dusted off the couch and straightened the coffee table. She kind of felt bad, thinking about this interview like a hunter might contemplate their prey. She had no idea what the vault dweller's life had been like, how long she'd been in the Commonwealth, what her story was. Of course, that was the idea behind this entire interview. She just hoped she wasn't going to end up pushing the woman too far. She wasn't in the mood to make yet _another_ poor impression. Heck, maybe the two of them could even be friends. She imagined herself showing the redhead around town, around the Commonwealth. They could guard each other's backs on the occasional adventure.

And there she was, _daydreaming again_.

* * *

She stuffed the hot plate and dinnerware in with the laundry, too flustered to particularly care about how little sense it made. She just wanted the place to look nice for her guest.

They had never agreed on a specific time for her to visit. For all Piper knew, the woman could walk in on her right now, sock in one hand and spatula in the other. Or, maybe she wouldn't show _at all_. Maybe Piper had already blown her chance at this potential article.

She gently scooted Nat's toys behind the makeshift wall of cinderblocks. She wondered if they'd ever be able to afford for Nat to have a _real_ room that she could call her own. She wondered what kind of living space this vault dweller had grown up in. Piper had heard stories about the vaults, but only hearsay, none of it confirmed.

But this gal, she was the real deal. The only thing that could have made her more authentic would have been for her to still be wearing her Vault-Tec jumpsuit! But given the accounts she'd heard from elsewhere, that article of clothing had been left behind some time ago. A real pity — given Piper's mental sketch of the woman's appearance, she would look _incredible_ in blue.

She paused midstep. That last word. It lingered in her mind for a moment longer than she'd expected. The color subtly pushed its way out between her lips, mouthing more than speaking.

"Blue..."

She chuckled at the errant thought. Piper had no idea what the vault dweller's actual name was. It would be required for the interview, of course — but in the meantime, if nothing else, _Blue_ made for a pretty cute placeholder.

And then, as though on cue, with a spontaneous click, the door swung open, and there she stood. Grey drifter's jacket. Messy red hair. Hopeful smile. Distracting eyes.

Piper turned to face her full-on. She swallowed her uncertainty, bit back the temptation of a stutter. She'd done a dozen interviews before, with all manner of people. This woman was going to be no different. She put on her best reporter's smile and walked to greet her.

"Glad you dropped by!" Her words were heartfelt — more than she realized. "You holding up, Blue?"


	7. Chapter 7

Sam and Piper were on the road. _Together_.

They had started making idle conversation as soon as they'd left the office. Now, Diamond City was behind them — their wanderings had led them west out of the Boston ruins. Large office buildings were yielding to more suburban-style shops. Piper was _still_ talking. And Samantha didn't mind _at all_.

"Now don't get me wrong, Takahashi _really does_ only say one thing. But he's got a lot more personality than you'd expect for such an ancient model. And his noodles, you _have_ to try them someda— wait. Blue."

Samantha turned around and half-laughed. "Seriously? You _know_ my real name. Why can't you just—"

 _"Blue."_

Her tone, like a shouted whisper, forced Sam's focus. Piper was already reaching for her gun. "Something's out there..."

She nodded, more accepting than agreeing. She didn't see anything herself, but she also hadn't grown up in a war zone like the Commonwealth.

And then it moved. What Sam's mind had dismissed as a pile of cloth and refuse, _stood up_ , turned to face them, _bared its teeth_. It looked like something out of the Gratuitous Gore aisle from Hubris Comics. Somewhere in the back of her head, she heard Piper unloading her gun.

"BLUE!"

Sam snapped to attention just in time to dodge the creature as it lunged towards her. She had to do something — had to _fight back_. It was coming at her again. She fumbled with the gun that Piper had given her — _where was the safety on this thing?_ The wretch was almost in her face. _Lunge_. _Dodge_.

 _Screw this._

The gun definitely handled differently than a baseball bat, but the result was the same. Same windup. Same arc of the wrist. Same wet cracking noise, only this time it was the creature's _spine_. Between Piper's shots and Samantha's pistol-whip, it looked to be down for good.

Piper relaxed her stance and tone, breaking into a half-laugh of her own. "Jeez, Blue! Like your fights up close and personal, huh?"

Sam felt her whole body grow hot with embarrassment. "It's complicated, alright? I'd prefer _no_ kind of fight at all, if I can help it."

Piper seemed to like that answer. "Hey, I'm not one to judge. If that's your style, though, why not use something _made_ for striking?"

"Actually, I do have something like that. I think I left it outside your office, it's just... broken."

Sam looked down and shuffled her feet, but Piper poked her, brought her attention back to the reporter's earnest, freckled face. "Hey. We don't _have_ to be out here. Why don't we go back? I know someone who might be able to help with that busted weapon of yours."

* * *

"Ferals, eh? _Oh_ yeah, a _swatta_ is _definitely_ what you need!"

Samantha couldn't help but wrinkle her nose a little. His obtrusive voice, his disrespect for the truth of the sport, it all just rubbed her the wrong way.

"Yeah, Moe, I get it. I've already got one, but it's splintering. How good are you at _repairs?"_

She handed him the mahogany bat, and couldn't help but feel dirty as he ran his hands all over it. "This is a good make. But I've got even _better_ ones I could sell you! Same kind of wood, even! Whattaya say?"

Sam made a disapproving face. "This one has... sentimental value. There must be _something_ you can do for it." She really hoped Piper didn't mind this detour back into the city. All just to satisfy her own phobia of shooting a gun.

If Piper _did_ object, she hid it perfectly. "Please, Moe?" she chimed in. "I know my friend here doesn't have the caps for it now, but we'll cover our expenses, promise! Please do this? For me?"

Sam hadn't expected to hear Piper's voice in this conversation at all. She sounded almost... _lyrical_ , compared to Moe. The man, for his part, gave Piper a blank look.

 _"For you?_ What's that supposed to mean, Ms. Propaganda-pants? If I do this, you _won't_ write an article about how all my baseball bats are synths?"

Piper's diplomatic front gave way to a glare that looked like it could cut metal. Sam wasn't even the target of her gaze, and she felt herself cower. Those eyes of hers were _weapons_.

Moe stood against her fiery emerald stare for three whole seconds before he caved. _"Alright_ , alright! I'll... I'll give it a sand and a polish for ya. And keep your caps, rookie — I've got a different idea how you can pay me back for this."

* * *

"So, this is the Wall."

Sam sat down on the park bench next to her newfound friend. Before them lay what remained of the stadium's old scoreboard. Moe's repair work was going to take about an hour, so they had agreed to go on a walk around the city commons.

"Mhm! The great protector..." Piper smiled back. Her eyes gleamed hazel in the sunlight. "Tell me, Blue — does it hold up, against the way that you remember it?"

They split a sweet roll between them. "First, my maiden name is _Red_. Honestly, Piper, I don't think you could have picked a _worse_ nickname. And second..." Samantha sighed. The way she remembered this place? She had been here with Nate. She had been pregnant with Shaun.

"...please don't ask me how I remember things. Not right now."

Piper practically choked on her bite of pastry. _"Oh god_ , no, of course. You probably, I mean, yeah, s- sure thing..." sadness flashed across her face, before a wry smile took its place, "...Blue."

Samantha laughed. She could have playfully punched Piper on the shoulder, but feared it would get taken the wrong way. They smiled and sat together in the quiet of mutual understanding.

Gazing upward, Sam saw a flock of birds dart across the sky. She couldn't deny it — there was definitely beauty left in the world. Having such bright company beside her was helping her finally see it.


	8. Chapter 8

"I hope you know, Blue, you've got one _hell_ of a swing."

They were taking a break off the beaten path. "Uh... thanks, I guess?" Samantha meekly offered. "It's mostly reflex. Having stuff that close up in your face is _scary_. I just try to get rid of it before it gets rid of me."

Piper took a swig of her Nuka-Cola. "Say what you will, I see technique in the way you hold it. Also, it's just really nice to have someone I can hide behind — but don't get yourself in _too_ deep, ok?"

"Not sure I could, with someone like you to watch my six. Honestly, it feels like you take out half the baddies we come across out here before I can even touch 'em!" She smiled at Piper, and Piper couldn't help but smile back.

A welcome breeze blew around them, shaking tree limbs and rustling foliage. Sam looked down and idly twirled the mahogany swatter in her hands. Her smile didn't fade.

Piper finished off her soda and pocketed the free cap. "Come on, we should aim to be back in Diamond City before nightfall."

* * *

"You're the newcomer; dinner's on me tonight."

They walked down the city stairs together, into the center of town. Blue giggled quietly. "If you insist."

No one else was at the noodle stand. In a way she was glad; there was something pleasant about the idea of not having anyone around to distract or pry.

Piper held up two fingers for Takahasi before he could even ask. She started to second guess herself. This _wasn't_ weird, right? Buying dinner for her friend? Neither of them _seemed_ to mind. Sam took the seat next to her and leaned into the table, breathing deep and smiling.

She couldn't help but look at Blue. Sitting there, quiet, tranquil. _What wild thoughts must be going through that pre-war mind of hers_. But before her own mind could wander any further, Takahasi was back with a cup of noodles in each hand.

Blue thanked the robot sincerely — _such cute manners_ — and took a minute to blow steam off the top. Piper did the same. It was nice to see she wasn't the only one who couldn't stand scalding hot water.

After a few minutes of idle chatter and letting their food cool, the moment came. Blue lifted the cup to her lips, and took her first sip. A moment's pause, and then a _clearly_ fabricated smile.

"It's uh... it's _okay."_

Piper felt her stomach turn inward on itself. "Don't lie to me Blue. If you don't like it, you don't like it. It's... fine."

The redhead's expression immediately turned apologetic. "No, it's _really_ not that bad. I'm just... I guess I'm not used to what food tastes like, now." She looked down into her noodles, lost in thought. "I'm sorry, that's probably really offensive."

Piper rapidly shook her head. "N- no! It's okay! You're adjusting. That takes time." Secretly, she wanted to ask what food _had_ been like, back before the War. But the past seemed to be a sensitive subject for Blue, so she held her tongue.

Sam's forced smile faded to a smaller but more genuine one, and she turned back to her meal. _Well, she's still eating_. The knot in Piper's stomach released, and they both finished their food in relative quiet.

Then something popped into her mind.

"Blue... do you have a place to sleep?"

Piper felt herself overheat before they even made eye contact. Whether it was from her silly question, or having just wolfed down a cup of hot noodles, she couldn't say.

Samantha blinked. "I... guess I don't. Wow."

She had to reply quickly, before her stutter got the better of her again. "Uh... great! Come with me! There's an Inn in town — I'll rent you a room for the night."

Blue hurriedly pulled out an extra cap and left it on the counter before they left. "Piper, I'm not _broke_. Let me pay for _something!"_

She pretended not to hear.

* * *

Everything was paid for. Blue had a bed to her name for the night. Now they were sitting on it together. Waiting.

Piper was the first to talk. _Of course she was._

"Blue... thanks for hanging out with me today. It was really nice to not be on my own out there. I'd be willing to do this again sometime, if... if you wanted."

She looked over at her friend. Blue's eyes conveyed absolute attention. A thin smile crept across her lips.

"Hey, I'm just glad I found someone who doesn't think I'm an _idiot_ for not being a fan of firearms. Neither of us _really_ knows our way around a fight, do we?"

Piper cracked up. "Remember when we opened that one door today and it was just _full_ of radroaches? _Imagine_ how we must have looked, running out screaming like a pair of little kids!"

They both laughed for another couple of seconds, then things quieted back down again. Blue reached over with her near arm and let her hand come to rest on Piper's shoulder.

"Hey. You're welcome. I'd love to do this again sometime."

Piper could feel her eyes widen. Excitement shot through her. She decided to take a gamble. _"Tomorrow?"_

Blue froze for half a second. "No, not tomorrow. There's uh... I've got something else I'd like to do."

Piper raised one eyebrow. "Well, alright. Take care of yourself out there. And get rest! I didn't put ten caps down for you to play on that Pip-Boy all night."

Blue rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'll just pay for the room myself, then! But seriously, thanks."

They exchanged one last smile before biding each other goodnight. Piper left the Dugout Inn that night confident and happy. Even with the cold wind starting to blow, all she felt was a warm tingle inside of her.

Whatever Samantha was planning for tomorrow, she hoped to see her again. She really did.


	9. Chapter 9

"Well, Miss Red, I must say, it's simply _wonderful_ to have you back. I was beginning to fear that matters had gone amiss for you in Concord."

"Concord?" Samantha mumbled between bites of food. After half a day of walking north to Sanctuary, hunger was impeding her politeness. "I'm sorry Codsworth — I never went to Concord. _Crawling_ with raiders." She leaned against the battered exterior of what used to be her home, tried not to think about the last time she had been here.

Codsworth blinked his shuttered camera of an eye. She could literally _hear_ his circuits trying to process her words.

She waved her hand. "Never mind. I'm here to retrieve something very specific. Do you know if the old cellar is still intact?"

To this, the robot had a ready reply. "Why, yes, mum!" The enthusiasm in his words coaxed a smile from her. "However, I'm afraid you may have some difficulty getting in. I seem to have misplaced the key..."

Samantha quickly finished a can of clean water — nothing else seemed to sit right in her stomach. _How did anybody tolerate irradiated_ _food and drink, out here?_

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I think we'll make do without it. Can you find me a screwdriver?"

—

These cellar doors had _clearly_ not been opened since before the War. Even with the lock picked clean, the hinges had rusted into place so hard that it took the combined force of mother _and_ butler to wrestle them open. Sam felt like she was breaking into a long-forgotten crypt.

Each step down the ladder kicked up clouds of dust and memory, forcing her to stop and catch her breath. It was moments like these that hurt the most — the reminders of just how much time had really passed. What felt like days ago was actually centuries. This world, this aftermath... it was never intended for her eyes. The world belonged to a different kind of humanity now, less proprietous, more cunning. She should have died in her cryo pod like all the others.

But she hadn't come here for her own self-pity. There were limited hours left in the day, and she still had a _long_ walk back ahead of her.

She took broad strides across the old cellar, ignoring as much as she could. Rummaging, she found what she'd come for. It was heavier than she remembered, but looked to be in mint condition, dust aside.

"Codsworth, help me get this up the ladder, would you?"

His meager servo arms strained under the weight, but he tried regardless. It amazed her to see how loyal he was, even after all this time. If a _robot_ had been able to cope with this much tragedy, perhaps there _was_ still hope for her.

* * *

"But, mum... _why this?_ Why this _machinery_ of all things?"

Samantha stuffed it into her pack and gave Codsworth a pitying glance. Could she really blame him for wishing she would show some emotion? Would treat this house — the only home _he'd_ ever known — like more than just a grave?

A drawn-out sigh. _He deserves some sort of explanation._

"Because, Codsworth..." she finished packing, contemplated her words. "I'm trying to move forward, not back. The world we remember is gone. But I think that we can do better than simply mourn for what's lost. We can start over, rebuild, renew. Right now, I don't _want_ to be reminded of the family we used to be. It would... only hurt."

She looked up. "And I have a friend, in a city far from here, who could very much use this, this _machinery."_

He stared at her without response. She gave him a pat on the chassis. "Your dedication to this old home inspires me, Codsworth. Thank you. I _promise_ I'll come back someday, when I have hope again, when I'm ready to face my past."

More speechless staring. More audible computation.

 _"SPLENDID_ , mum! I shall be _sure_ to have the roses trimmed to their Sunday finest, in anticipation of your return. Tally ho!"

Samantha rolled her eyes. She wondered if anything she'd said had gotten through that old circuitboard of his. In a way, she supposed, she'd said it for her own sake as much as his.

Down the road and across the old wood bridge, one foot ahead of the next. _She could do this._ She could make it back to Diamond City.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall, but she'd made it. Sam knocked on the door to Publick Occurrences three times. _I wonder if that's still a thing..._

Her answer came quickly enough, as the door swung open. The trenchcoat and press cap cast her friend in such a silhouette.

"Oh! H- hey Blue!" There it was. That soft smile she had already come to recognize.

Sam beamed back. "Hey. I... brought you something!" She dropped her pack to the floor — _god that felt better_ — reached in, and withdrew the compact electric motor.

"I... overheard your sister, the other day, talking about how the one for your printing press was wearing out. I remembered that we had one back home. And, well I—"

"You lugged this all the way here for _us?!"_

Sam wavered under her eye contact. She hadn't gone _too far_ with this, had she?

"Blue... no one's _ever_ chipped in to help Publick Occurrences like this. To help _us_ like this. Thank you."

Her fears evaporated. The pain in her feet, the soreness in her back, gone. All she could feel was happy and relieved.

"Hey sis!" Piper called out. "You're not gonna believe what just showed up at our doorstep!"

She took the motor into her own hands and turned to walk inside, before looking back over her shoulder. "Come on in, Blue. I have a feeling Nat will want to thank you personally."

Samantha smiled and nodded without a thought. She followed the reporter inside, out of the cold and dark, pulling the front door shut behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

Piper woke up still feeling tired. She rolled over with a grumble and reached for her clock. That couldn't be right. _Noon?_

Half-falling out of bed, she reached around for her day clothes. _Why was she so tired?_ Her vision, blurred from sand in the eyes, slowly adjusted. The house was silent. Nat was probably at school.

She thought back to Nat the previous night. Her excitement. The way she'd jumped up and down, clapping her hands in excitement about the—

 _Motor. Right._

She buckled her trenchcoat and made her way downstairs. No sign of Blue, but her memory was coming back to her.

Blue had shown up at their doorstep the previous evening. With an _electric motor._ For _their_ printing press. _Unbelievable_. Piper could _see_ the motor — there it was, right next to the press — and she still couldn't accept that it was real. She knelt down to touch the thing, as one might check the reality of a dream.

Kneeling rapidly turned into sitting on the floor. She really was wiped.

It was probably her own fault. She recalled Nat's face of positive dismay. Her sister had actually gone and _hugged_ Blue, right around the torso. She remembered the redhead's face. Her look of helpless confusion. How she had blushed so hard her skin nearly matched her hair.

Piper had melted out of happiness for her sister. Nat had so few honest friends. Sure, a woman like Blue was certainly uncommon company for a preteen, but she wasn't going to judge or discriminate on as trivial a matter as age. Nat was already so mature — well, most of the time, anyway. Piper wasn't exactly a paragon of adulthood herself. She'd snuck off with Nat's teddy bear more than once, on nights where the pain of life had hurt particularly hard.

Sitting on uneven floorboards was starting to hurt too, even through her pants and leather trenchcoat. Bracing one hand against the press, she slowly got up to her feet. She wasn't aching, she just felt... _drained_ , like she hadn't gotten a full night's sleep. Not even close.

The couch looked incredibly inviting. As she made her way over, she was surprised to find her trusty press cap lying on the floor beside it. "What're you doing down _here_ , buddy?"

As she curled up on the sofa and sank comfortably into it, she found herself thinking back to when she'd been here last night. Nat had started asking questions about where Blue had gotten the motor from. One thing had led to another, and pretty soon Natalie Wright was extracting Blue's entire history on a level that Piper would have never _dreamed_.

She remembered trying her best to eavesdrop on the details, but she'd also been preoccupied with cleaning out their only kettle to make tea. Blue was apparently more sensitive to radiation poisoning than most, and she'd heard that boiling water sometimes made it easier on the body.

She remembered when she'd joined them and sat down — herself and Blue on opposing ends of the couch, and Nat on the coffee table, arms wrapped around her knees. She remembered the honesty in Blue's smile, and how much she enjoyed the tea. Piper had finally found something that Samantha really liked!

Blue, for her part, seemed to enjoy the company as much as the hot drink. She talked about her journey up to Sanctuary. The sights she'd seen, the fights she'd dodged. About a Mr. Handy she'd known from back before the War, and how it was _still_ tending to the ruins of the house it once belonged to. Piper wanted to ask so many questions, but anxiety got the better of her.

Fortunately, Nat had not yet developed those kinds of inhibitions, and while Blue had given Piper the occasional sidelong glance, there wasn't a single question she didn't answer. No, dreams were not caused by radiation — they dated back as far as human history. Yes, there were dogs before the war — _lots_ of them, more diverse than humans, even. No, she hadn't been into space herself — apparently only a handful of people ever had.

Yes, she missed her home.

Piper had lost herself in the bottom of her tea mug by the time that last question came around. She'd looked up to find her gaze entwined with Blue's. Nat decided that she was tired around that time, and had said goodnight to the both of them, with a repeated extra special thanks to Blue.

Piper remembered how she'd felt in that moment. Part of her was scared to be alone with Blue. Most of her was overjoyed.

They made quiet small talk for a while, until Piper checked that Nat really was asleep. Then their conversation took a turn for the philosophic, sharing sentiments about the fate of humanity and the effects of the War. It was a lot for each of them to process. Neither one seemed entirely able to believe that the other was real. In a way, she'd reflected, neither of them really belonged in the other's life.

She remembered Blue's reply. "Piper, nothing belongs _anywhere_ anymore. I don't care what could, or should, or would have happened differently. I'm here. I'm now. And... honestly?"

 _The look she'd given her. Those steel-blue eyes._

"I'm glad that you are, too."

She remembered how much she had stammered to come up with a reply. How Blue had laughed and suggested they call it a night. She remembered not wanting to go to bed, but not being able to come up with an argument to the contrary. She'd offered to pay for another night at the Dugout, but Blue had insisted on using her own caps for once.

The memory faded. The butterflies didn't.

Piper got up from the couch and donned her hat. She decided to see about making herself another mug of tea. She wasn't normally a fan for the stuff, but after last night, the idea of it seemed just a tad bit sweeter.


	11. Chapter 11

Samantha was weak. Of course, she had known that since the beginning. She'd been weak when she tried to stand up for her friend in middle school and gotten shoved aside. She'd been weak when she cost her team their shot at moving forward in the tournament. She was weak when she'd given up on trying _not_ to be, resigned herself to books and school and being Nathan's housewife. She'd been weak before the war. She was still weak after.

But she had never felt weak like _this_.

Her whole body was exhausted in atrophy — except for when the sky flashed; then every muscle pulled tight at once and made it difficult to move, difficult to even wince away the pain. Her skin felt hot to its own touch, like she was running a terrible fever. And her head was splitting hard enough to make the world spin.

At least she was pretty sure she wasn't seeing things. She was pretty sure she'd seen the sky turn that alien shade of green _before_ all this had started.

Shelter helped. But it wasn't enough. The cloudbursts were inescapable. Hiding beneath a roof alone wasn't going to save her. She needed protection in full from this poisonous light.

She wasn't far from Diamond City. If it was half the protector it claimed to be, and her friend inside had half the care she seemed to show... but another flash cut her thought in half before she could complete it, left its remnants bleeding in her skull.

The main gate was open, _thank god_. Of course nobody was stationed outside, or inside, or _anywhere_. She just had to get up the stairs and down the stairs.

Sam had no idea what was going on, but had a feeling she knew who might.

* * *

The door was locked, because _of course it was_. She pounded the metal three times, as hard as she could — which actually wasn't very hard at all.

She felt like an idiot, coming here in a state like this. She was a grown woman; she should have been able to take care of herself. But she was weak. She always had been.

The door opened and Sam, half-leaning into it, fell right into the reporter's arms. She shut her eyes tight, blocking out the light as much as the pain, but she could feel herself being held, examined, worried over.

"Whoa. Hey, are you...?" She heard the door close, quietly, behind her. Her sense of equilibrium was shot. She didn't even realize she was being dragged over to the couch.

She heard the sound of metal cabinets, of a bottlecap popping free. Then she _felt_ — cold glass, the mouth of a bottle, pressing against her lips.

"Drink."

She drank without question. Any doubt had been burned away by the pain. If she said this was what she needed, _this was what she needed_. Whatever she was drinking, it was _good_. It tasted... clean, and a tiny bit salty. She went in for another gulp, but the bottle moved away.

"Easy, Blue. Let it sink in."

Her words were unexpectedly comforting, like she'd done this before. _For her sister, perhaps?_ Sam shuttered at the thought of Natalie suffering.

She lay back and felt the world continue to spin around her, but the spinning seemed to slow. Her head still pounded, but it pounded _less_. She felt her burning skin ease into a merely _heated_ sweat. Her muscles ached back to life.

A tingling calm overcame her. All sensation faded away.

* * *

Sam opened her eyes. There was that silhouette she'd come to know and trust.

"Piper," she muttered softly. She heard the rumble of another cloudburst, muffled by the metal walls. She felt safe here, safer than she wanted to admit.

The reporter turned to her, flicked away the remnants of... a cigarette? Had she been _smoking?_ "Look who's awake! You were starting to get me worried."

"What... what did..." she eyed the nondescript bottle beside her on the coffee table.

The reporter's concerned face cracked a little smile. "This? Magic, isn't it? Old family recipe. I'll teach you, sometime! Here, have another go — drink it _slowly_ , Blue."

Sam adjusted on the couch to get more comfortable. Moving still definitely hurt all over. Another swig, though, and she felt the pain subside. Piper ran her fingers over Sam's forehead. The contact gave her unexpected chills.

Her smile grew a little more. "Nice to see it works on pre-war relics as well as us Commonwealth types. I guess they wouldn't have had radiation storms back in your day, huh?"

Sam was mortified. "This sort of thing has happened _before?"_

"Uh, yeah Blue! Only as far back as _anyone_ can remember. What were you doing out there, anyway?"

Sam gulped, and tried to shrug. Her muscles were still sore, but this stuff was working. "I was... going out. Like really, no secret agenda this time. I was just— don't give me that look, Piper!"

"Maybe if you let me tag along, I'd be able to _warn_ you about things like this! I wouldn't _have_ to give you worried looks! You need someone to watch your back out there, Blue. Now I'm not saying that has to be _me_ , but please just—"

"No, I get it."

Sam sat in quiet for a few minutes. The storm still echoed outside. "Hey."

"Yeah, Blue?"

"Don't smoke. It's not healthy for you."

Piper stared, then burst out laughing. "You're certainly one to talk, right now! But uh... sure, if it would make you feel better."

Sam could have smiled at her for a long time. She nodded, forgetting her headache. Instantly the pain was back, and she was wincing.

She felt the bottle press against her lips again. "That's it... easy now. You get more rest, ok? I'm not going anywhere — and neither are you for a while."

Her pain eased, but she kept her eyes shut, focusing on Piper's words. _That sounds just fine_.


	12. Chapter 12

Piper faintly smiled between mouthfulls of Sugar Bombs. She felt a bit guilty, raiding Nat's private stash while she was off at some sleep-over with a friend. Mostly, though, she was just glad to see Samantha sitting upright. The redhead looked almost _cute_ with that mug of tea between her hands.

"You were _really_ out of it last night, Blue."

Sam laughed into her cup.

"Sure was. I don't think I've ever felt that sick from anything. How _do_ you people survive with all this radiation?"

Piper took minute to finish her handfull of sweets while thinking. She really couldn't say why Sam was so sensitive to rad poisoning. It worried her a little.

She swallowed and shrugged her shoulders. "Two-hundred years of genetic tolerance?" — Blue mirrored her gesture of cluelessness — "But honestly, a lot of us just... don't."

"Wait, don't what?"

 _"Survive_ , Blue. I know Diamond City probably doesn't seem like much to you, not after what you grew up with. But believe me, I've been out there. We've got it _really_ lucky, Nat and I, living in a place like this."

A thoughtful quiet hung in the air. She couldn't know what Blue was thinking, but for her own part, her mind was lost in memory. She recalled all the settlements she'd been through. She thought back to her caravan days — how much younger Nat had been then, but already so strong of spirit. The remembered the settlement of her childhood, back before things had gone all wrong. _Before daddy..._

"Hey!"

Piper snapped back into the present. "What? Yeah?"

Blue furrowed her eyebrows at her. "You doing alright yourself? You just got one hell of a distant stare. I knew _army veterans_ who'd phase out less than that."

Her mouth replied before her mind could. "I was thinking about all the folks out there who could use a hand, that's all."

 _Huh, not bad for a knee-jerk cover story._

Blue seemed to buy it, but still patted the vacant side of the sofa, inviting her to sit down. Piper took the gesture and joined her. Their eyes met.

"I've been thinking," said Blue. "About what you told me the other night. There's so much in the world that I just don't get now, so much that I'm not prepared for. How could I possibly find my son in this kind of state? I'm a _lawyer_ , not a soldier."

Piper frowned. Her friend's lack of confidence was a painful thing to see. "And I'm a reporter, not a marksman. What does it matter? We all make our way in this life. And you're stronger than you think, Blue." She closed up the box of cereal — what was left of it, anyway, _sorry Nat_ — and set it on the floor behind her.

"Do you _seriously_ believe you're _weak?"_

Blue nodded. _How could she possibly think that about herself? After what she's been through?_ Rage at the woman's insecurity boiled over into words. "Then... _change_. You're not _stuck_ the way you _are_. Go out and learn! Work! Help others!"

Blue's eyes came back into focus — her mind had been wandering too, it seemed. "What?"

She fidgeted in her seat. Maybe it was a dumb idea after all. Her words never seemed to come out as well in speech as in her imagination. Maybe that was why she liked to write.

"Think about it. All the people in the Commonwealth, outside Diamond City. We could help them, _together_. I'd guard your back, I- I mean, if you'd have me. It's a double win! We'd actually be fighting back against all the bad in the world."

"Even if that bad is _other people?"_

She grimaced at Blue's words. They both did, in fact. "Yes. I've had to kill before, Blue. I don't like it, but sometimes we have no choice. There _are_ bad people out there, and I'm willing to kill them, if it's the only way."

The quiet between them was back. Blue downed her tea. Piper waited for her to finish. Waited for her to disagree. She anticipated excuses, dismissal, pushback, condescension.

"Alright."

She blinked. "Wait, yes? Actually?"

The redhead smiled. "I mean, my whole world's gone upside-down anyway. Why not go out and get scraped up a bit? Especially if I'm not off doing it alone."

"Uh..." Piper's trenchcoat suddenly felt far too hot for the room they were in. "Ok! That's, uh, that's a plan! Let me go pack real quick."

She was upstairs before Blue could even start her stifled laughter. She always kept her travel bag ready, but she decided to double check it anyway. She needed a moment to regain her composure.

 _She had actually persuaded her!_ Blue was really going to prove herself to be a good person. The good person she'd hoped for her to be. And they would get to go and help people, as a _team_. Piper's mind was already flooding itself with images of them swatting criminals and repairing houses, cleaning up radiation and... well, maybe not that last one, not with Blue anyway.

 _Stimpaks. Gumdrops. Rad-X. Nuka-Cola. Notepad. Three spare pens. Good luck charm._ Everything in her pack checked out. She practically fell back down the stairs. Blue had gathered up her supplies as well. That baseball bat was really starting to look like it belonged in her hands.

Blue grinned. "I _like_ this. Trying to make the world a better place. I was getting lost in my own despair. Thanks for talking me into this, Piper."

Piper couldn't see how much she was glowing.

"We all have those moments, Blue. It's okay. And we'll see if you're still thanking me after you get shot at!"

"So long as it ain't from you!" Blue gave her a gentle punch on the shoulder. Piper chuckled — she liked their playful banter. "Come on, I have an idea for our first lead. Remember when we stopped by the Wall, the other day? I overheard Abbot saying something about being low on paint..."


	13. Chapter 13

"Blue, I don't like this."

Sam glanced behind her. "I don't like it either. But we were headed here anyway, and that woman said she needed help! Now are we going to offer it or what?"

"Fine," Piper answered with a roll of her eyes. "Just, be careful with what you go barging into. I've got your back, not your front."

She nodded, taking her time through the maze of old store shelves and pre-war debris. She rounded a corner to a long hallway, and stopped in her tracks so fast she nearly fell over. There were voices coming from the far door — lots of them, low and fierce.

She doubled back around the bend and signaled Piper to stop. She already had her pistol out, and was silently mouthing at her. _'Told you.'_

 _'Okay, okay,'_ Sam mouthed back. She unstrapped her bat and crept to the other side of where the hallway met the main room. Her heart pounded. She was about to suggest to Piper that they just sneak back out to safety, when she saw the reporter lean forward and nudge an old cardboard box, causing it to tumble over.

She could hear the raiders swearing at each other to shut up, that they'd heard something. _There goes that idea_. The door creaked open, and she heard footsteps. _This is it_. She raised her bat for an overhead strike. _This is really it_.

The first body came into view, and she committed to the attack before she could even assess. She knew raiders wore whatever they could get their hands on, but a _flight helmet?_

The bat landed with a solid but unimpressive thunk — not even close to enough to take him out, as she had hoped. He turned to give her a look, as if to say _are you serious?_ But then, the sound of three shots, and the man fell over dead. He'd turned his back to Piper, who for her part looked at Sam and simply winked.

More were coming, getting their warcry on. She wound up a sideways swing and unloaded it right into the first oncoming set of footsteps. The raider went down, wind knocked out of them, and maybe a couple of ribs. Then two more dove under her outstretched swatter, one turning to Piper, and one to her.

 _Let's do this, punk._

She charged, going for an underarm swing. It got him, but not before he had started unloading his pistol into her. She took a step forward for a second swing into his head. She connected alright — sent him stumbling right through a window — but she then stumbled over, too. Something was wrong with her legs.

She nearly panicked when she looked down and saw herself, pants full of holes and soaked with thick, dark blood. She rushed into her pocket for the giant metal syringe. There was a moment's hesitation, then she drove the needle into her thigh.

The bleeding stopped so fast she could watch it happen. She tried to stand up — and succeeded. _Wow, that works fast_. She gave the used stimpak a thankful kiss before tossing it aside and rushing to Piper's aid. _Three_ dead bodies lay in a trail of the reporter's own bleeding, and a forth raider was still laying into her.

 _Get the hell off my friend_. Samantha spun into the attacker with a diagonal uppercut. The raider's chin took the bat like a tee-ball, shooting upward with a terrible _crunch_ sound — and then, silence.

Piper fell backwards into a shelf, too dizzy to administer first aid by her lonesome. Sam pulled out a second stimpak and stuck it in her abdomen. She could see the relief pouring into her and out of the stim. Her eyes fluttered back open. Sam smiled wordlessly, glad to see she'd made it.

* * *

 _So they scavenge gear from literal trash cans, and lock any real supplies in a metal cage where nobody can get to it._ The more she thought about raiders, the less sense they made. Had they packed any bobby pins?

Piper, for her part, was walking around admiring the warehouse they'd found at the end of the bloody hall. There was no sign of the woman who had lured them into this mess — _probably saw things weren't going well and booked it_ , Sam imagined.

"Blue, just how much _was there_ before the war?"

She halted her search to consider the woman's question. How could one possibly convey the magnitude, the _scale_ of it all?

"Too much," was her opening reply. Her bag was clean out of lockpicks. She checked her pockets. "Enough to take up the entire planet. It was beyond us. Any of us. No one could grasp how big our nations had become. I guess you could say it was just a matter of time before they toppled. Before it all went up like a forest fire, overdue."

Her hand felt something small and metal. It was a bobby pin, sure enough — just one, and it was slippery from soaking in her blood. She got down on her knees, eyes level with the lock. _I can do this._

"Wow, so this whole place must be like _nothing_ to you. It's kind of crazy, we walk by all these giant structures everyday, and they're just sort of... _there_. But you actually _built_ them."

Sam was too focused to reply.

"Hey, what are you...?"

In her peripheral vision, she could see Piper coming over to watch. _Great, an audience to watch me fail_. This lock wasn't even all that fancy — circumstance was just against her. _Gentle movements... I gotta work with it, not against it... come on, now!_

She nearly fainted when she heard the resounding _click_ of success. She felt Piper press one hand into her shoulder and give a subtle squeeze. "Dang, Blue!"

Sam smiled at the appreciation. "Thank you. All self-taught. Now why don't you help me look around in here? Abbott's counting on us, you know!"


	14. Chapter 14

Piper caught herself smiling more than she expected from such aimless wandering with her friend. All she could think about was how Blue had risked her life and limb, just so the Wall — a mere _plaything_ in the context of the world she'd come from — could get a fresh coat of paint. She'd had no reason to do it, except out of her inborn sense of kindness and respect. She loved getting to see this side of Sam.

They were on the road again, this time to settle a different request — Blue still had a debt to Moe Cronin from getting her baseball bat refurbished.

"The estate should be just ahead," she stated, fiddling with her Pip-Boy as they walked. When she came to a halt, they were practically _standing_ in swamp. "Wow, what's left of it. How does he expect us to find anything here?"

Piper, for her part, was having other concerns about the terrain. _She's never seen me around water, before._ "Blue," she opened, voice wavering more than she would've liked. "We don't have to do this, you know."

"Yeah we... kinda do," Sam flatly replied. "But hey! Come on, it'll be alright."

She waited for fate to prove them wrong.

* * *

They were searching one of the shacks that was only halfway sunk, which helped Piper keep her calm. What didn't help was when such precautions turned out not to matter.

There was no trigger, no forewarning. It just _burst_ from the water, all at once. She knew that chitinous sound anywhere. "BLUE!" her voice practically cracked as she yelled. She gritted her teeth and tried to keep her tone steady. _"Company!"_

Before her friend could say a word, the creature was visible, shoving itself through the narrow doorframe. Its limbs clacked against the floorboards, and it smelled like everything _bad_ about the sea. Swatter came unbuckled. Pistol came unholstered. Claws came out from under its shell. They fought.

 _She's got some serious nerves, going into melee with a mirelurk_. If Piper hadn't been so scared, she might have noted the way they swapped blows, blocking each other's spar-like attacks and circling around. But she was too busy to admire their little dance. The only thing she seemed able to take notice of at all was the tremble in her aim.

 _Stand still, Blue! Give me a target!_

She _really_ didn't want to shoot her friend and front line of defense. Fear and worry gripped her, made the trigger slippery in her fingers. She mistimed her shots more than once. But thank goodness, Blue was alright. The mirelurk looked to be slowly losing out. Sam had a few new rips in her overcoat, but she was still swinging hard as ever. The creature, for its part, had some major holes and dents in its shell. _Not bad for one shaky handgun and a piece of mahogany._

She heard the sound of crashing water outside. There were more. There were _always_ more. Sam had just delivered a full-force swing into the first one's exposed soft underside, rendering it motionless — _dead?_ — when two others came into view. Piper perched up on a desk next to an open window, and reloaded her weapon's clip.

She realized the error of her ways too late, as she felt something pinch her from behind and in an instant, yank her entire world away.

She was _cold_ , _dark_ , _wet_. She couldn't tell where _up_ was. She couldn't breathe. Her heart thundered underwater. Everything was wrong at once. She felt the pincer around her arm, pulling her still.

She tried to point her gun under her armpit to shoot behind her — shoot at the beast. Everything moved slower underwater. Except her mind. Her mind was going so fast she couldn't catch up to it. Couldn't think. Couldn't _words_.

The bullets left compression waves in their wake. She _felt_ her own gunshots. She felt the claw release. She felt her own desperation for air. She kicked away with her legs, flailed her arms for a sense of direction. She burst through the surface and half-gasped, half-screamed.

Even in her trenchcoat, she swam fast and _hard_ into the center of the estate. She clambered on top of an old playground set, looking frantically in every direction. Nothing had followed her up. Maybe her shot had been lucky. She wasn't _feeling_ lucky, anyway.

She heard Blue before she saw her, even with the water in her ears. She'd taken the fight out into the open. They were... what, maybe thirty paces apart? Piper was terrible at measurements. A second mirelurk lay dead on the beach, but a third was giving Blue a run for her money. It had managed to catch her bat with one of its claws, and was thrusting at her with the other as she tried in vain to wrench the weapon free.

She steadied her aim against the old metal bars surrounding her. Being on land again had lent her an unnatural state of focus. "Blue!" she yelled, this time clear and loud. "Get down!"

Sam needed only a moment's glance to understand. She released her grip on the swatter and dove straight into the sand. Piper drew a deep breath. Her fear froze solid. Time itself came to a crawl.

 _Seven shots_ , each one breaking and creating silence anew. The high pitch of her pistol rang in her ears. The mirelurk slumped. Blue's swatter rolled to the ground.

Blue and Piper just looked at each other as they collected their belongings. She didn't want things to get awkward between them, so she broke the silence. "You really held your own there, Blue."

Blue laughed sarcastically. _"Barely_. I mean... thanks, honestly, but I sure am glad you came back when you did."

Piper laughed nervously. "Y- yeah! Me... me too."

They smiled at each other earnestly. She felt a little less cold and wet under that smile. Sam velcroed her swatter back into place. "Come on, I think we've earned a break after this."


	15. Chapter 15

_I really hope this bathwater's not irradiated._

It was a reasonable concern, Sam felt. The Dugout's heating unit was surely nuclear powered. One crack in its system and she'd be glowing the next time Piper saw her.

Steam filled the small room. It felt strange for her to undress in a place like this. Back in the day, one look at a bath in this condition would've been enough to drive her out of the entire inn. But her standards had been different then. Heating enough water to fill a tub was surely no small expense for the Bobrovs, and she was grateful.

It was Piper's idea, originally — suggesting that she shell out the extra caps for a full-on bath. She stepped in, and immediately understood.

Practically speaking, this bath was no different from any other she'd taken. But in the olden days, baths had merely been relaxing. This time, she felt like royalty. All the ache and tension in her melted from the tingling heat. She forgot what it had ever felt like to be cold. The reporter's joke, about not leaving for a week? Suddenly, it seemed a lot more plausible.

She thought about the work she and Piper and done today, grueling work with no clear benefit, save for serving the habits of a single, gross-misguided fan. His ceaseless yelling still echoed in her heard. _'Buy a swatta! The game changa!'_

 _Moe_. _The mirelurks_. All of it melted away. For the first time since she'd left the Vault — even since all that had preceded it — Samantha closed her eyes in genuine relief.

* * *

Her hair was still wet, and the outdoor air was a stark reminder that her only warm layer was in no condition to be worn. Even so, she _was_ glowing, but not in the horrific way she had imagined earlier. She just felt... _good_.

She remembered just a few days ago, feeling like good was an emotion she would never know again. That dejection had been replaced — with hope, and something else she couldn't put her finger on.

Standing still was making her cold. She decided to walk over to Publick Occurrences, see if Piper was ready yet, or at the very least say hi to...

 _"Lady!_ You're back!" Nat jumped off her crate and ran right up to her. "Did you two get into a _fight_ while you were gone? Piper said something about _mirelurks_ before she went to wash off. Were there _really_ no radioactive monsters before the War? Why did they always write about them in the _comics?"_

Sam was stumbling for words, when she found herself rescued by a familiar voice. _"Natalie!"_

Piper had changed from her usual attire also — a flannel top that she looked surprisingly at-home in. "You two can talk your hearts out later," she told her little sister. "Right now, I've got something time-sensitive planned with Blue, so I get dibs."

 _"Says you!"_ Nat retorted with a sneer, before running off. Piper laughed. "She's just mad that I raided her cereal without permission. Come on! I want to show you something before the sun sets."

* * *

The sun _was_ setting, and it was _definitely_ getting colder. But so long as there was still some light in the sky, she'd be warm enough. It helped that she and Piper were constantly in motion.

They had gone up past the upper stands, taking access stairs and old 'staff only' corridors. Sam couldn't say for sure where her reporter friend was taking them, but she definitely had a guess. Up one more flight of stairs, past a door that only _appeared_ to be locked, and — _yes_ , there they were. The top of the stadium. The top of the Wall.

As a pre-war civilian, Samantha wouldn't have _dared_ to _dream_ of climbing this high up without permission. Now, she still felt like she was breaking a couple of rules, but in a way that left her feeling liberated, rather than concerned.

"This is it, Blue. The _real_ reason I like to get back before nightfall. I don't come up here that often, anymore, but this view helped me through an emotional tight spot more than once, when I was young. I guess you could say it's my little hideout. Written some of my best articles up here, too."

Sam could see why. The view was mesmerizing. Monolithic ruins in the foreground, endless foothills in the background, nuclear-orange sunset in the infinite distance. From the other side, sun at her back, Sam could _just_ make out the sea.

She was humbled into wordlessness — a silence that was mirrored without complaint. She was starting to notice that about her, about them; even for all that Piper liked to talk, there were times where the two of them would just end up saying nothing for a while. And, miraculously, it wasn't awkward. They were able to take time alone, to be their separate selves, while still in each other's proximity and company. And it was _okay_.

She chose to speak out anyway. "Good work today, Piper." She stuck a hand out between them, palm facing up.

The reporter glanced at her, almost looking pleasantly surprised. "We make a good team." Her gloveless hand reached out and gently took hold of Sam's.

Sam looked down between them. "What?"

Piper blinked back. "What?"

"You're holding my hand. I was trying to give you a high-five."

 _"OH my g–"_ Piper let go like she was holding a grenade. Sam hurriedly stuffed both hands in her pockets. One was distinctly warmer than the other.

A moment of silence. This time it _was_ awkward.

"Well, uh..." Piper opened. "Hey! Why don't we go get something to eat? I'm famished from today."

Sam stared at her own tummy. "Wow, yeah, I _forgot_ about that! God, I'm _starving!"_ They both laughed, tension blowing away on the breeze. Piper led the way back down.

It was true. She was starving — for food. But not for friendship. Friendship, she had finally found.


	16. Chapter 16

Piper rolled out of bed — still tired, but at least not sore. Definitely an improvement over the last time she had stayed up late in Samantha's company.

Empty Nuka-Cola bottles littered the floor. It seemed the less she smoked, the more she binged on soda. _Trading one vice for another, I suppose_. She tossed as many of them into the trash bin as could fit, and lined up the remaining few on top of her bedside cabinet.

Tidying like this, she could feel her mind piecing itself back together. Thoughts were less errant, less likely to wander off halfway though thinking them — or writing them down. Not that she minded being distracted. It just made it hard to write for the paper.

 _Ugh_. She didn't want to think about the paper right now. Thinking of the paper made her think of Blue. How hard she was to write about. How easy she was to go out on adventures with.

She felt a small chill run through her. Even the mornings were starting to be cold, now. She made her way downstairs — hopefully her trenchcoat had dried out overnight, and Nat hadn't done anything with it as a prank.

* * *

"Sis, have you seen our hairbrush anywhere?"

"I know I used it yesterday. Check between the cinderblocks. Might've fallen in."

She was making breakfast for the both of them. Doing things that took up her attention like this — cooking, talking — were really proving to help. _Maybe I'll finally make some progress on that article today_.

"Not seeing it! Hey, how's the new article coming along? About your lady friend?"

Piper turned her attention to the meat she was grilling. Maybe if she focused really, really hard, her sister's question would go away. She sighed. _Like I can hide anything from that prying mind of hers_.

"Not real well, kiddo," she admitted. "I've started over on the terminal twice already. I just... don't feel like I can get a read on her, y'know?" She glanced away from her cooking to Nat — still scouring the cinderblocks that separated her room from the rest of the main floor.

"The more I try to write about her, Nat, the less I realize I truly understand her... I mean, I know she's willing to help people, but I still can't get why. She says it gives her hope, seeing people working to rebuild from the War, free themselves from ruin and hate. But then she... she turns around in the same interview, and says she's out for revenge herself!"

She threw some sliced tatos in the frying pan alongside the protein. That satisfying sizzle noise never got old for her. It brought her a passing sense of calm, steadied the nerves that her words were setting on-edge.

"Like, what does that _say_ about her, though? Is there something I'm missing? Something about her worldview, her ethics? Something that ties her words together? We're not afraid to make bold claims with the paper. Neither of us are! But we at least _try_ to uncover the truth before jumping to conclusions." Her words trailed off into thoughts and feelings.

She felt _hollow_ , and not just from being hungry. How could she hope to wrap her mind around the kinds of truths a pre-war survivor would have known? She wanted to believe in herself, but knew that it wouldn't get her anywhere. Of course she was a wreck at this. _You got the interview of your dreams, alright. And now you're just going to let it slip away_.

Nat opened her mouth, still from halfway across the room. _"What?_ I can't hear _anything_ you're saying over there. God, the _noise_ of that frying pan. And I'm not seeing the hairbrush _anywhere_ , Piper!"

Her grip tightened around the pan's handle. She was ready to just turn off the hot-plate and storm upstairs. _Let Nat figure it out for herself_. "I said _I don't get her_ , okay? I don't _get_ Blue at all!"

The door behind her knocked three times. Piper felt her stomach drop as she turned to answer. _Don't let it be..._

But of course, it was. Flannel shirt. Mahogany swatter. Red hair. Bright eyes. "H- hey, Blue!"

The woman leaned forward on her baseball bat, arching one brow and eyeing her up and down, reading into her expressions, seeing past her words. "Am I... interrupting something?"

Piper could feel her skin turn clammy as she spoke. "What? No, haha! We were just... that is..."

She turned and stepped half-aside so Blue could see inside. Nat had come over and was serving herself food off the pan. To Piper's dismay, the girl even ran up and gave her an earnest one-arm hug. "Thanks for breakfast, sis. Good morning, lady!"

Then as quickly as she had come over, she ran back off — before either of them could say a word. They ended up just looking at each other and giggling, instead.

"So, Piper. You uh... feel up to another day of playing escort? I'd trust myself out there a lot more if you came with me." There was something uniquely endearing about the smile she put on.

"Oh, yeah Blue, of course. I'd go out with you any day. I mean...!" but she cut herself off and went to pack for the day. _Focus on the task. Remember your breakfast. Don't say anything stupid_. Her sister simply sat on the couch and watched.

She paused in the doorway for a moment to hurry a goodbye. "Nat, we'll be gone for..." she looked at Blue, who looked back at her and shrugged. "A, uh... a while, okay? Be good, sis!" She pulled the door shut behind her. Quiet rang through the house.

Nat got up off the couch and retreated to her room, munching on the delicious breakfast Piper had so lovingly made for her. She turned to her teddy, propped up against the wall like she was.

 _"Grown ups,"_ she lamented. "Am I right?"


	17. Chapter 17

Sam lost herself in thought. In memory.

"I remember these tracks. I remember watching the old freight liners rush by when I was a kid. We'd dare each other to sit _real_ close to the edge. The trains came by so fast, the front of wind could almost knock you over!"

Piper flashed a smile, as if to say _I'm listening, go on_. Otherwise she stayed quite still, seated in the dead leaves and dirt beside her. She listened intently. Sam tried her best not to let it trigger her self-consciousness, her stage fright. She really hoped she wasn't being _quoted_.

"When I got older, I used to go for walks along the railroad by myself. There were trees then, mind you. _Real_ trees, _big_ trees full of leaves. It was my escape. I never met anybody else on those walks. Everyone else probably thought it was silly or unsafe or a waste of time... and, I mean, it _was._ It was _all_ those things. But that was why I did it. I needed a way to break out from the vicious cycle, a way to quiet the noise."

She chucked a pebble and it skipped across the tracks. Its metallic _tinks_ rang eerily loud, the wasteland offering no other sounds to challenge it. "I guess I got my wish, after a fashion."

Piper took deep breaths in and out, like she was lost in thought herself, or unsure what to say. "Can you talk about what it was like? Civilization? Living in one of those... _true_ cities?" She pointed over her shoulder to the ruins behind them. Neither of them turned around to look. Neither of them had to.

"Honestly? It was suffocating, Piper. I mean, maybe you would have found it cool... I probably took a lot of it for granted. I guess it's easy to not know how fortunate you are until that fortune goes away."

She paused for a minute to listen to the wind, to breathe. It helped her keep her cool. Otherwise she risked losing herself in the emotions of the past. Everything from back then was connected — and it all connected back to what she'd loved and lost the most.

"My family and I, we grew up near the center of it all, in an apartment. I'd... like _not_ to visit there, if that's alright. I'll show you on my Pip-Boy, so we can avoid it. There, see it?" She leaned over so the reporter could get a good look at her Pip-Boy screen. Piper nodded wordlessly.

 _Don't let me interrupt you, Blue_ , she could almost hear her say.

"So anyway. Cities. They were... _important_ , I guess. _Important people lived in them._ No one else could afford to. They were the seats of power in the old world. Cities were where the rules all came from, where folks decided what was _law."_

She snorted a half-hearted laugh. "I guess after going to school for law myself, I started to see through their nonsense more than ever. As a kid, I just thought the world was big and loud but couldn't help. As I grew up, I realized how intentional it was. No one cared about us as individuals anymore. "

She choked on her words, unexpectedly. "My husband helped me realize that."

 _Oh Nate_. Nate had been there to help her see all this, and still maintain her clarity. Nate had been the other side of her equation, the variable necessary for everything to _click_. He had brought stability to her volatile arguments against the way of the world. He had always helped her breathe, prevented her from going off the rails.

Nate had been the other half of everything for her — the hopeful spirit that grounded all her high ideals, the Yang to balance out her Yin. Samantha was an academic, a philosopher, but Nate had been a _soldier_. He had trained to go out there and see life as it _really_ was. Not hidden away behind a cushy life of picket fences and robot butlers. They had talked together, worked together, written written songs together. They'd been a team — soldier and lawyer, romantic and pragmatic, patriot and rebel.

She imagined if the tables had been turned. If she had died protecting Shaun, and he were out here on his own. How much better off he'd be, with his military training, his can-do attitude. He'd have _no problem_ leveling a gun against a band of raiders. And here _she_ was, barely able to keep steady in a conversation with some reporter.

"Blue..."

Sam persisted. "We were _too many_ by the end. Too many to count. Too many to care. The whole world became impersonal. We were numbers in a terminal, waiting for our turn to be called upon, to be _used_ , or _sent away_ , or—"

"Blue. Stop. Please."

She stopped, blinked in confusion — _and then she realized_. Provoked by her eyelids' sudden movement, tears began to trickle down her face, teasing, almost itching.

Her friend frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Blue. I didn't think about what I was asking. Got carried away, I suppose."

"You didn't ask anything wrong!" she countered. "This?" She pointed to her tears, "This was all me. I brought this on my own head. Are you ever hard on yourself? More than you... probably deserve?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "Only _constantly!"_

It was enough to elicit a laugh from both of them. Her tears dried up, scared off by the laughter and the sense of cheer. It helped a lot to be in good-spirited company.

Piper stood up first, offering a hand as she did. Sam took it willingly. She slung her pack over one shoulder, and rested her swatter on the other.

"You know," she said, confidence returning to her voice. "I'm pretty sure when I used to walk these tracks, back in the day, I'd almost always end up going south."

Piper's eyes glinted green in the sun. "North, then?"

Samantha's smile was the only reply they needed.


	18. Chapter 18

"Damn flying syringes!"

It was times like these that Piper really wished she had better aim. For every shot that connected with the bloodbug's gangly body, half a dozen _didn't_. Each misfire brought the creep a little more inside her personal space, brought its needle nose a little closer to piercing her skin. She felt her muscles tense just from the thought. Anxiety rattled her; any moment, it might strike.

Meanwhile, she could see Blue some paces ahead of her, broadsiding her way through two of them at once. _I guess her style has its advantages at times_.

 _Finally_ , she landed a shot, straight in the insect's thorax. Blood poured out onto the dirt. Its wings began to falter, and soon enough, it was lifeless on the ground.

She looked over to Blue. She'd killed _two_ of them in the time it had taken _her_ to kill just one. She wasn't sure how to feel. Guilty, almost? Confused, at least.

Blue turned and stared at her blankly. Piper couldn't get a read on the emotion in her eyes. Then she noticed the rest of her friend. Specifically her shirt. Specifically the wet red blotches and holes in her shirt.

"Whoa, Blue!" She raced to close the distance between them, hands outstretched to catch her if necessary. That was how she'd taken out two of them at once. _She'd been_ _reckless_.

"Oh, hey..." Her words were slow and slurred. "I feel... _tired."_

Piper was too busy checking her pockets to reply. _Yes, still got one_. She pulled out a stimpak and slammed it into Blue without even pausing to ask permission.

Her expression illustrated everything. The fatigue, the shock of the injection, the euphoria of recovery. She knew the process well, from every time she'd had to use a stimpak on herself. Those same sensations echoed from Samantha's own reactions — the shift in her posture, the clarity of her gaze, the moan of relief that she forgot to stifle.

Piper sighed and rolled her eyes. They were lucky. Lucky Sam hadn't gotten stabbed any more by them, and bled out entirely. Lucky she had someone with her, to make sure she didn't die to _bloodbugs_. "Still got a _lot_ to learn, Blue. Come on, let's find a place to patch you up."

* * *

"Piper?"

They'd settled down in an abandoned roadside home. She had told Blue to sit on the floorboards. To sit and stay.

Piper tore old bedsheets into strips. She'd learned to salvage cloth like this back when she was a teenager, traveling with the caravan. She remembered doing this on the road for little Nat.

But doing this for a _grown woman?_ An adult in her own right? That was a different story.

She grumbled her reply. "Mhm?"

"I'm sorry."

She paused halfway through a rip. Why did she suddenly want to forgive her for her brashness? Was it the sincerity of her voice? Her own inability to hold a grudge? Maybe she just _wanted_ things to _be okay_. What a sap she was. No, she had to stay stern, had to make a point with this.

"Sorry for _what_ , Blue?"

She tried to focus on prepping bandages. Even so, from the corner of her eye, she could see Blue bowing her head. "For getting myself beat up. For not... being careful, I guess."

 _Maybe she does get it_. She turned and sat down next to Blue, sheet strips in hand. "Well, I'm glad I don't have to lecture you like I might with Nat. That gives me some hope for you, anyway. Now hold still while I bandage you up, okay?"

Sam was a surprisingly good patient, not flinching or twitching in the least. The silence made Piper uncomfortable — left her feeling like she'd made herself the bad guy. Conversation became her escape, as if so often did.

"Stimpaks do a great job of patching you up on the inside, but you'll still want to keep these bandages on for a full day at least, if you can. They keep nastiness out of the leftover wound."

Their eyes briefly met. Sam was earnestly listening. She kept up her talking.

"Bloodbugs are terrible culprits at this. The way they leave those nasty circular holds in ya? Stuff like that can scar if you don't help it heal right."

Blue nodded. "Thank you for doing this. For looking after me. For teaching me how the world works, nowadays."

Piper practically cringed at how much a positive spin Sam was putting on their situation. "Back in my time, if a mosquito tried to suck your blood, all you had to do was slap it."

She stopped halfway through a knot to look up at Blud. "Wait, what? A what? You what?"

"A mosquito!" she repeated. _What the hell was a Mosquito?_ "Like, the insects we just faced. They weren't giant then like they are now."

"Giant?" Piper blinked. "You mean...? No, you must be joking."

Blue shook her head. "Honest! They probably never got any bigger than your fingernail!"

A moment of unbelieving silence.

And then Piper _exploded_ laughing.

"I'm serious!" Blue shouted in protest, but the reporter was lost in her own cackling at the absurdity. She fell over sideways, laughing to the point that it hurt to breathe. For a moment, she got herself under control. She opened her eyes, saw Sam's stern frown... but then she returned to her mental image of such a ridiculously _tiny_ bloodbug, and she was on the floor in stitches all over again.

"Damn it Piper! Do I need to finish this first aid by myself?!" She could hear Blue trying to suppress laughter of her own. This was what she liked about Blue's company. These moments of random joy, when all the seriousness of the Commonwealth disappeared.

She sat back up and wiped tears from her eyes. Her breathing slowly came back to normal. "God... I haven't laughed like that in... yeah, c'mere Blue, I got ya."


	19. Chapter 19

"How's the arm, Blue?"

Sam had almost forgotten about her wounds, over their idle chatter on the return trip to Diamond City. "Well, _worse_ , now that I'm thinking about it again!"

Piper suppressed a snicker. "Hey, I'm going to go check in with Nat, now that we're back and all. You look pretty wiped. Want to just call it an early evening?"

She didn't know how right she was. Sam had taken some major beatings, learning to fight these past few days, and stimpaks didn't do much for the _emotional_ side of trauma. Not to mention, she still didn't feel completely recovered from that radiation storm. All she could manage was a nod.

"Tsk... _go sleep_ , Blue! You know how to find me."

"Thanks, Piper" — the words almost felt hollow to Sam, even as she said them. She felt like she owed the reporter better words than such a simple thanks. But it was the best she could manage.

They smiled and waved goodbye, and Sam headed to the Dugout. The bartender there was good company, in his own way — always up for a story, even if Sam didn't buy anything. It meant a lot to have someone she could just _talk at_. She wished she could have these kinds of talks with Piper, but was too scared. Scared of, boring her, pushing her away. She sighed, then yawned.

Sam thanked Vadim for the company and dropped a dozen caps off on the counter, before heading to the room she'd rented. She had barely shut the door and curled up in her bed before she was asleep.

* * *

She stood, weightless, breathless, lost beneath that same green vicious sky. Diamond City was abandoned. No one had been here in two hundred years. The once-admired Wall surrounded her like a coffin.

Even from that low vantage point, she could see the mushroom clouds in the distance. Bombs were falling throughout the Commonwealth, their explosions countless and towering. She watched as their plumes set fire to the sky, burning the very air to ash. She tried to gasp, but nothing filled her lungs. Then the shockwaves came, blew the stadium into a thousand shards of brokenness. Her vision cracked and shattered, leaving naught but darkness in its place.

Out of the black, like peeling back the veil of death, faces half-emerged. A mere fraction of their features were lit — their furrowed brows, their practiced scowls. The shadows reflected an undeniable truth into her heart of hearts — these were the faces of the men who'd _made the call_. Fired the nukes. Destroyed the world.

The faces tried to retreat into the black from whence they'd come, but burned away like camera film before they could. As the smoke of their cremation cleared, she found herself horizontal, laying on a broken road. She lacked the strength to move, but could see the underside of a highway far above her. She watched as it bent and buckled under the concussive force of the bombs. The concrete itself began to somehow _bleed_.

She was in a park. Playgrounds sank into the earth and sprouted tombstones in their place. At the center, a statue once stood testament to the grandeur of humanity. Now, the effigy had turned and bowed its head in shame. It glowed a sickly green, matching the color of the sky.

She was in a field, looking out upon the whole of Boston. Flashing blasts of roaring light and thunder came from all around, destroying everything she knew. Buildings collapsed. Trees shriveled. Animals died. With every cloudburst, she felt the fire in her own skin grow, until it became enough to burn her clothes away. She stood there naked, raw, exposed and alone in the center of the atomic firestorm.

 _"WHY?!"_ she screamed and cried. _"WHY ME?!"_

No answer came. Fate owed her no response.

The bombs stopped. The light cleared. The cloudbursts vanished, and with them the entire sky. She didn't try to bother breathing anymore. She knew she was going to die.

Here, at the end of the world, the stars came out, their final curtain call a service to her funeral. She could feel the heavens judging her — the sole survivor, bearer of the weight combined from all of mankind's folly. She felt herself go cold beneath the stars' gaze, freezing in place, unable to move. She tried to open her mouth, to ask forgiveness, to beg for guidance through the pain. But all it took was the slightest hint of an attempt to move—

* * *

And Samantha was _awake_.

She didn't scream, didn't flail. Panic pounded in her chest too much for her to move a muscle, let alone risk making noise. Breath returned to her. She tried to get her bearings.

The room was dimly lit at best — she was in the Dugout, _right_. She seemed to have kicked the sheets off in her sleep.

She rolled over to glance at her Pip-Boy's clock. _1:16 AM_ , too late to step outside and hope for company. She was too scared to even take a step out of bed, anyway.

Timidly, she gathered up the sheets and pulled them tight around her. She reached into her bag, pulled out the pack of gumdrops she'd been given. _'Something to keep you sharp,'_ she remembered Piper saying. Sugar sounded like welcome medicine right about then. The old candy definitely helped, but she could taste the radiation in every chew. It wasn't enough to make her sick, but definitely still a trigger for her memory of _last time_.

She sought solace in her pillow. Maybe sleep would come. Maybe it wouldn't. Either way, the nightmare had ended. She was free. For a while.

Samantha _knew_ that there was good left in the world, good that she at first had not been able to believe or see. But even for all that, there was still a lot of hardship left for her to work through.


	20. Chapter 20

Piper just _couldn't focus._

Nat was practically bouncing off the walls that morning — for no particular reason, as kids have always been wont to do. Piper reached over and cranked the volume of her radio even higher. She lit a cigarette, looked at it, and stubbed it back out with an angered sigh. She opened a Nuka-Cola and twirled the cap between her fingers. _Anything_ to distract her from the terminal.

The terminal. Its glowing screen blinked at her, _judging_. She had wrestled with writer's block before, but that never made it any easier. She'd punch out a few sentences, cringe at herself, and start all over.

"Gonna burn out the backspace key at this rate," she said to herself half-jokingly. It was this damn article about Blue. She'd written articles on stranger, tougher subjects than this — why was she so lost in her own head about this?

Perhaps it was something about Blue herself? No... not with the kinds of articles she usually ended up writing. She could spin anything into a good story — if she could get herself able to spin up _anything at all_.

She could do this. She _had_ to do this, but she also _knew_ she _could_. Maybe a change of scenery was what she needed. A few possibilities came to mind, but she knew for sure where she was going to head first.

"Nat!" she called downstairs. "I'm going out for a while, okay?"

Her sister was too preoccupied with childhood to answer. Piper laughed internally, and grabbed her coat.

* * *

The terminal was a pleasantly distant memory. Surrounded instead by the clinking of glass and the mutter of voices from conversations elsewhere in the Dugout, Piper lost herself in the bliss of old-fashioned journaling.

In many ways, the terminal was a luxury. She remembered when she had first gotten it, how much of a difference it had made. The ability to move entire sentences and paragraphs around! Pen on paper could _never_ compete with that. Yet Piper still found a visceral satisfaction in the art of writing articles out by hand. She felt connected with her words in a different way, on a different level. She had to contemplate her actions, like a game of chess.

In the back of her head, she could hear the jovial boom of Vadim's idle chatter. She was practically able to count down the seconds until Yefim's voice interjected. She giggled quietly, writing all the while.

She ended up opening the draft with a commentary on how easy it was to take the world for granted. It was a... _grating_ start, to be sure, and she would edit it later. But her thoughts were _flowing_ , and tempting as it was to turn her mental faucet off so she could go back and nitpick, she kept on writing.

 _For granted._ She mused on how much she took for granted herself. Her quality of life. Having her own home was _dizzying_ , at times. Even after living there for years, a small part of her was still too scared to believe it all was true. She'd lost her home before, lost her way of life. She knew what it was like to be uprooted. It was part of why she felt so strongly for the narrative of Blue's own tragic tale.

Her verbal spar with McDonough the other day had awakened a dormant fear in her. Everything she had gotten used to, could also fall apart. Safety was a myth.

 _That's life in the Commonwealth, I guess_. But it hadn't always been that way. Safety, happiness, peace — they had been _real_ in Blue's day. They could _learn so much_ from her. _That_ was what she wanted to get at with this article.

That, and, uh... actually reporting the news, she guessed.

* * *

It had taken longer than expected, but she had a semblance of a proper draft. Her best next step was probably to go and type it all up in her terminal. She was a little reluctant to get up and leave — writing in the Dugout like this was proving a welcome change of pace. That was when she heard Vadim start making noise again. He was saying hello to someone. Saying hello to _Sam_.

 _Sam... Samantha? Blue?_

She got up and turned to look. Sure enough, there was her red-headed newfound friend — eyes were foggy, hair a mess. She had a tired, harrowed look on her face. A loud bartender _wasn't_ what she needed, she could tell.

She set down her handwritten notes, pointing to them like a dog. "You stay!" she ordered. Sometimes it really did feel like her work ran off on her. She strode purposefully to the bar. _Her friend needed rescuing_.

"Vadim, sorry to interrupt," she lied. "Could I trouble you for a..." her mind stuttered. She needed to order something he couldn't just grab from behind the bar. She needed to _distract_ him.

"A cup of coffee? Or, _two_ I guess. You'll take one, right Blue?"

Truthfully, Piper _despised_ coffee. But Blue was worth the suffering.

Sam, for her part, stared tiredly at Piper and forced a smile before nodding. The woman's _real_ smile never failed to elicit the same from Piper herself. But her _forced_ smile made Piper anxious — made her wonder what it was she felt the need to hide.

Blue practically slipped off her barstool as Vadim left. Piper grabbed her instinctively, but also let go just as quickly, as soon as it was clear that she was standing upright.

"Come on, sleepyhead," she opened. "I've got a spare seat at my table. You can curl up in it and pull yourself together. _Are you okay,_ Blue? You look like you barely slept!"

Sam smiled back at her understandingly, but still seemed at a loss for words. She followed her to the open chair and did, quite literally, curl up into it. She looked tired, and a little shaken. Piper didn't mind, though. She didn't mind being there for Blue at all.


	21. Chapter 21

"Look, it's just... _stressful_ to be out here, okay? Nothing's the same. Nothing's _right_."

They were on a park bench together, facing the Wall — the new, freshly painted Wall, thanks to them. Piper had been drilling into her all morning, trying to figure out what was on her mind, what was leaving her so tired, so worn and _weak_. She was starting to see why people called her nosy.

Samantha leaned forward and buried her head in her hands, her fingers sliding upward across her scalp. It felt nice. It reminded her of Nate, how _he'd_ used to run _his_ fingers through her hair. He hadn't been like most guys. He'd been strong, of course — strong enough to fight for his country in spite of everything, strong enough to make up for her weaknesses — but with that strength had also been sincerity, care. It wasn't often she'd met a soldier who was willingly so soft.

She remembered how worried he'd been, before going on his first tour. How sweet he'd been when he came back, and they finally settled into civilian's lives together. How tenderly he'd held Shaun, all the way into the Vault, all the way...

Sam slid her fingers back out of her hair. It didn't feel nice anymore.

It was close to midday, and the park was still deserted, save for the two of them. In a way it felt strange, being there alone, just the two of them. Part of her wished there were other people around, other things going on — things to distract Piper from trying to unearth her inner workings, things to distract herself from a past she could never return to.

In another way, though, this was a welcome escape. The... _Commonwealth_ , as they called it, didn't feel so big and scary, sitting on this bench with her newfound friend.

She thought back to those first moments, exiting the Vault. The blinding light of the new world. How dead and destroyed it all was. How lost she felt, unsure where to go, what to do, why to even bother living. Those first few days felt like a dream now, a distant nightmare. Diamond City had turned her around. _Piper_ had turned her around. She was still only barely scraping by, but that in itself was _everything_.

Sam had a lot to be hateful for, but also a lot to be grateful for. She looked up and glanced over at her friend, the hopeful, helpful, _nosy_ reporter.

"Okay, that was excessive of me. Maybe a few things have carried over. Maybe a _few_ things are still right."

Piper smiled wryly in response to this. "Like me!" She chimed. _"I'm_ Wright!"

Sam wished she had something in her hands, just so she could throw it. "Did you _seriously_ just make that pun?"

Piper's smile escalated into a quick, sharp laugh. Then she raised both arms into the air, like she was being held at gunpoint. "Had to make it around you once, Blue. Never again. Cross my heart."

Sam simply groaned and rolled her eyes. She leaned back and slouched into the bench. It wasn't incredibly comfortable, but with her whole body aching from hard days and restless nights, even this was relaxing in its own way.

"So..." Piper's voice had come back to its usual tone of inquiry. "You seem to be feeling better, but I can't get a read on what you... _want_ , now."

Sam tilted her head back to admire the open sky. She could never look people in the eye when it came to questions like that. "Would you believe me, if I said that I can't either?" The quiet between them seemed to invite her to keep going. "I still feel lost, out there. It all just feels so day-to-day."

She laughed at herself. "Remember how you asked me to make a statement to Diamond City? Maybe I should have told people to put one foot in front of the next, take each day as it comes. It's certainly what I've been doing."

She sat back upright, looked over to Piper for a response. Her expression was... inexpressible. Sam could tell that _something_ was running through the reporter's head, or maybe heart.

"But you _didn't_ say that. You knew what you truly wanted. You said—"

 _"Find who's responsible, and make them pay."_ The words were like cold steel on her lips. "Yeah, I know, I remember. And I still want that." She felt adrenaline begin to chill her body just from thinking about that man, that face. About her baby boy. "You have _no idea_ how much I want it. I just..."

She looked down at the dirt and squirmed a little. "I guess I just don't feel strong enough."

More quiet. Sam focused her attention on a tuft of grass. She felt a comforting hand against her shoulder.

She looked to Piper again, who pulled her hand back as soon as their eyes connected. "Give yourself some time, Blue. It may feel like it's been a while... believe me, I know that feeling. Stop and think about it though. You've only been here for a couple of days!"

Sam sighed. She couldn't argue with those words, that voice. Too much of her just wanted everything to be okay again, even though she knew it never could be. Piper was right. She couldn't rush this. Rushing got you _killed_ , or _seriously_ injured, out in the Commonwealth. She'd begun to learn that the hard way for herself.

She gave the reporter a heartfelt smile. "Thanks for believing in me."

Piper's cheeks looked unusually rosy in the sunlight. "Well, y'know, yeah. Hey! Would you... like to hit the road again, sometime? I caught word in the Dugout earlier, about some folks in trouble north of here. Maybe we could go find them along those train tracks you reminisced about?"

Sam felt a warmth inside her. She _would_ like that. She would like that _very much_.


	22. Chapter 22

"Hang on Blue, let me take a look at that Pip-Boy again?"

The way Sam dutifully stuck out her arm, Piper almost felt bad just for asking. She also almost felt bad for suggesting they go out in search of an adventure again, period. But she had her reasons for wanting to get Blue on the move again. Most of them were even noble.

The Pip-Boy's menagerie of switches and dials never failed to overwhelm her. She hated computers of every kind. She only barely tolerated the terminal she used to draft her articles for the paper, and even it wasn't the universal go-to for writing implements.

"It's alright, I don't know how to work it either." Blue's commentary was a welcome reassurance. Piper paused briefly to run the words through her head a second time. She looked up from the small display screen, and blinked.

"Yeah, I guess there wasn't exactly anyone around to give you a tutorial, was there?"

Blue seemed to grimace and smile at the same time. Regret immediately overtook her. She imagined the pain with which her own words must have just landed. "Dang it, I'm sorry! I didn't mean..." but she knew, nothing she said now could undo the harsh reminder. She only risked making her friend dwell even more on the past. She turned back to the Pip-Boy, trying to navigate its function as a map.

Piper had never been inside a Vault, so it was hard for her to to paint even a basic mental image — but at the very least, she felt a vague, pictureless sort of empathy. She knew what it felt like to be alone, but to still feel responsible for someone younger than you. She knew what it felt like to lose family.

Of course, Blue knew none of this about her. There were a lot of things she hadn't opened up about. _Why don't you just tell her, Piper?_ She wrestled against herself internally, just as she wrestled externally with the Pip-Boy's controls.

None of this was getting either of them anywhere. She stood back and flailed her arms in dismissal. "Never mind. I'm sure there's _something_ up north here, anyway."

Blue looked at her and offered a bemused grin. "I guess we could say... If there's a story here, we'll find it?"

"Oh _be quiet_ , you relic!" Piper smacked her across the side in jest. "You try being a journalist sometime, and see if _you_ don't end up with a couple of catchphrases to your name! Come on, let's keep following the tracks. I've got a good feeling about this."

* * *

Her good feeling had paid off. They'd come upon what looked to be an old, pre-War train station. A couple of settlers had refit it to function as a home and farm. Piper was pretty sure these were the folks she'd heard about. Of course, with the levels of hearsay she'd gone through, there was no telling for sure. What she could be certain of, though, was how grateful the settlers were to see them.

"You don't know how nice it is to see a few new faces around," one woman said in greeting. "Especially when they're not out to kill you or steal your crops!" Her dry laugh betrayed how jaded she was, how accustomed she'd become to Commonwealth life.

Piper opted to let Sam do the talking. She liked seeing her friend take charge. She was _good_ at it, better than she gave herself credit for. There were so many little things about her that Piper admired, especially in moments like these. The way her posture improved as she addressed the farmers. The smile that crept across her face as she offered to help. The way her eyes focused as they discussed the details of what had to be done. She liked to imagine that it was all a glimpse into the old Samantha, the woman who had lived two hundred years ago, back before the War destroyed her confidence, her drive.

Her mind drifted from the conversation at hand, to more distant musings. _It would be nice, staying friends with a gal like this. Maybe she can arrange something more long-term with Yefim. She'll only become an even better person, the longer she sticks around. I could visit, make her tea..._

"Piper?"

The present moment hit her like an unexpected stim, or perhaps the end of a chem high. "Sorry, Blue! What?"

"What do you say? Are we in?"

"In on what? Sorry. W- would you run it by me again?"

She felt her body overheat with embarrassment. She'd been distracted, like a little kid. Sam turned back to the settler with a quiet sigh. "Excuse us for a second?"

Before Piper could think about what to do with her idle, fidgeting hands, Blue had one arm around her, and was leading her somewhere — probably out of earshot, or something.

Blue whispered loudly at her. "Piper, these settlers are being _raided_. They're practically defenseless, and they're asking _us_ to camp out with them for the night. Want us to help if we get caught with them in another raid. Did you seriously not hear _any_ of that?"

She quietly shook her head.

Sam used her arms to turn Piper towards her, resting one arm on each of her shoulders. They locked eyes. "I'm willing to help them out if you are, but I don't know how many raiders we might end up fighting. If we _are_ going to stay, I need to know I can trust you to be at full attention. _Have you got my back?"_

It was hard for her to believe that this kind of assertiveness belonged to the same Blue who shied away from _guns_ , who thought herself to be weak and undeserving. It was that same commanding confidence she'd spotted in her earlier. She liked it. She could get used to seeing Sam like this.

"Yes," she answered, her focus absolute. "We'll help these people. Let's do it."


	23. Chapter 23

Samantha woke up in a daze, her breathing shallow. Her eyes strained to pull the world into focus. She stared up at the ceiling. It was dark, save for a single lightbulb, dimly flickering.

It hurt to wake up. She was beginning to lose track of the days, the number of times she'd had to bear returning to this harsh reality. _How long had it been since the Vault? A week?_ It was no easier now than it had been then. To remember where she was, _when_ she was. To convince herself that life was still worth living.

Though it did occur to her, staring up at the corrugated metal roofing, feeling the soreness in her bones — she actually had no idea where it was that she'd been sleeping. She couldn't remember going to sleep. She actually couldn't remember much at all.

She tried to get up, bracing her arms against the splintered floor. But as soon as she exerted any force, she was overrun with pain, and collapsed with a whimper.

As if on cue, she heard the sound of hurried footsteps, saw a figure clad in red come running to her side. Long black hair flowed out from under a cap. Sam stared, examining the woman's freckled face and pretty hazel eyes.

 _"Piper!"_ she blurted out. For a moment, she had forgotten the reporter's name. How could she forget the only friend she had?

Piper blinked back in response. "... _Correct!_ How do you feel, Blue? Talk to me."

Sam resigned herself to staying horizontal, staring up at the rafters, sideways at the reporter. "My head hurts. I remember... blurs, noises, feelings." The previous night was coming back to her, albeit vaguely, slowly. She remembered shouts, lights, explosions, pain. She remembered the sound of mahogany on metal, the breaking of glass, the crunching of bone. She remembered a _lot_ of gunshots, and a lot of feeling overwhelmed and scared.

"We got caught in a raid, didn't we?"

"We _volunteered_ to get caught in a raid. It was your offer, your idea. The settlers here would have been defenseless against them, were it not for us."

She paused mid-thought. "Were it not for _you_. I'm... _proud_ of you, Blue."

Sam returned her friend's smile before it could even be given. They were starting to get to know each other, in those little ways. The ways that didn't really matter, and therefore came up all the time.

"Inspired by you, Piper," she muttered in reply.

Piper beamed, then held up a stimpak for Sam to see. "Hey, better brace yourself, you're due for another one of these. It'll hurt for a second, but you need it if you want to get better."

Sam clenched her teeth and nodded in anticipation. The initial jab always hurt more than she thought it would. She could feel the healing fluid coursing through her. She couldn't help but groan as the medicine went to work. It was euphoric. She wanted to reach out to Piper. Wanted to stay up and talk with her. But her eyelids fluttered. Exhaustion took her against her will.

A shallow "thank you" started forming on her lips, but her consciousness faded before she could even finish.

* * *

She woke up again. It still looked to be dark out, but she felt _much_ better. There was no way she could know for sure how long she'd slept, but it had been long enough for the extra stim to really work its magic. She rolled over to take a look at her Pip-Boy. The screen had a _lot_ of numbers on it, associated with various vitals that she lacked the training to interpret, but the layman's readout — the one with the little animated man and the simplified health meters — seemed to suggest she was well on her way to recovery.

Eyes wandering from the screen, she noticed Piper curled up in a sleeping bag beside her. Her eyes were closed, her face emotionless and tranquil. Sam realized in that moment that she had never seen her with her press cap _off_ , before. She looked different without it — more elegant, less adventurous.

Her senses continued to reach further afield. She thought she heard voices, in another room, or perhaps ohutside. The settlers, she figured. There were two of them out here — both farmhands, as she recalled. As the trauma of the night got further away, her memory of it all was slowly coming back together.

She heard footsteps in her direction. A woman came into view — her clothes dirty and torn, her left arm in a makeshift sling.

They made eye contact. Sam pressed her hand into the floor again, forcing herself upright. The settler squatted down to meet her halfway, smiling and speaking first.

"We owe you so much. I hope you know that."

Sam stretched and grumbled in her sleeping bag. "Right now, I'll just take payment in a full night's recovery."

The farmhand smiled at that. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, girl. You _and_ your friend."

Sam reached back and massaged her neck, still aching with some pretty strong dull pain. "Guess we're lucky no one shot us in the head then."

Neither of them laughed at her half-joking comment. Sam could feel her eyes fluttering, ready to close again and drag her back into unconsciousness. "Hey."

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad we could help. Piper and I. I know what it feels like to be powerless. To lose everything. No one deserves that."

They both smiled at each other, then turned their separate ways. The settler off to do whatever it was she was doing — _standing watch, perhaps?_ — and Sam curled up against the pad on the floor.

She took one last glance at her friend, sleeping next to her. She wondered if she'd fallen asleep watching over her. Piper cared so much. Sam couldn't fathom why.

She felt a warm happiness well up in her, as it sometimes did. "Sweet dreams, champ."

And Samantha was asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

Piper woke up thinking of Samantha.

It took a moment for her eyes to blink away the sand, for her to properly get a sense of which way she was facing. Every time she had woken up through the night, glanced over at Blue, she'd seemed to be sleeping soundly. Now, it was well past dawn.

As she rolled over, she realized Blue had vanished. She had probably just gotten up before her. Gotten up and moved about. _Nothing bad happened,_ she told herself. Nothing bad.

She grumbled as she crawled out of her makeshift bed and stood herself upright. Muscles ached, as she pushed and pulled them into action. Her whole body pleaded to stay in bed. A tension lingered in her back, no matter how she tried to stretch it out. But she had to check on Blue.

Her head felt like a sponge. Standing up was enough in itself to leave her dizzy — at least, she was pretty sure that was why she felt so light-headed.

The raid had been hard on Piper too, just in different ways. She was a bad enough shot as it was in broad daylight; trying to aim in the dark, she had felt practically useless. It drained her morale, which in turn drained her body. At least she hadn't been trying to fend enemies off at point blank range.

It was like the bloodbugs all over again. Piper felt weak, incompetent, wished that she could have done more. She admired Blue's work, but also feared for her. One of the raiders had even stopped fighting entirely, just to spectate how Blue had brought a swatter to a gunfight.

"Hey, check out this crazy bitch with nothing but a bat!" The raider's dry voice rattled in her head. She remembered taking advantage of his arrogant pause to line up a headshot. She remembered how she felt as she pulled the trigger. It had almost been satisfying. But it hadn't been easy. It never, ever was.

 _'Wish it hadn't come to that.'_

The line was practically a mantra for her. She hated combat. She much preferred the missions of peace and help. Even in such a short time, they had begun to do real good for those around them. Blue was a good person, on good behavior a lot more often than she probably realized.

Since her absolute earliest childhood memories, it had always felt more _right_ to Piper, to help good people than harm bad ones. Also, the helpful approach tended to end in Blue needing a lot less medical attention afterwards.

For all that Blue talked about being a mere academic, she was also shaping up to be a capable opponent. But it still just all felt so... _so..._

She couldn't find the proper word. _Brash? Headstrong? Naive?_ Whatever it was, it was starting to really get to her. Why Blue insisted on going toe-to-toe with her opponents regardless of the pain, she couldn't fathom.

She buckled up her trench coat around the waist, and pulled her press cap firmly into place. Perhaps it was time they talked.

* * *

She found Blue sitting just outside the shack they'd used for shelter though the night. She was leaning back against the side of the wall, legs crossed, playing with her Pip-Boy. There was a youthfulness to her pose, to her choice of pastime. She enjoyed seeing Blue like this, innocent and happy. It was an attitude she could _engage_ with, far better than her moments of depression or self-pity over Shaun. That was another thing for them to talk about. Maybe the next time they were back in Diamond City.

She felt a momentary pang of guilt flash through her — but before she could trace it, the feeling went away. She blinked the matter out of her mind, turned back to the present.

Not too far from where Blue's head was resting, Piper noticed a visible black scorch mark — probably from some grenade or similar explosion from the past night's battle. She shuddered at the thought of Blue taking a Molotov to the face.

Sam caught on to her presence before her mind had time to linger. "Looks who's up," she said with a smile.

Piper closed the gap between them and sat down next to Blue. "Not me," she said. "I'm ready to go to bed all over again."

Blue smiled understandingly. They sat in pleasant quiet for a few minutes. They watched the wind blow dead lives through the grass. They listened to the sound of their two settler friends tending to the garden nearby. Sam gave her Pip-Boy a once-over. Piper checked the pens that she kept slotted in her glove.

"So, I was thinking," Piper started, "maybe next time we sign ourselves up for a fight, try to do it while the sun's up? I was _convinced_ I'd shot you on accident more than once."

"Who's to say you didn't?" Blue elbowed her joking, easing her anxiety before it could spike. "But I agree. Neither of us are really the type. No more night raids, when we can help it."

 _At least she's agreeing with me so far._ Piper wanted to keep the thread going, get to the heart of the matter, but she was too tired to get her words right. Part of her just wanted to lean her head on Blue's shoulder and rest — but everything else in her feared how awkward that could be.

"Are you alright, Piper?" she heard Blue ask.

"Wh..." she mumbled, opening her eyes. _When had she closed them?_ "Yeah Bl... I jus..." She just wanted Blue to not get hurt. Was that too much to ask?

Her eyes closed again without her knowing. In her imagination, Blue felt better — _all_ better. She thought she heard her asking her another question, but it was too fuzzy, and she knew it didn't matter. Dream-Blue was alright. That was enough.

Piper fell back asleep thinking of Samantha, just as she had woken up.


	25. Chapter 25

Sam was definitely in better shape than Piper was. The difficulty was in getting Piper to _admit it_.

She did her best to keep their hiking at a reasonable speed. Personally, she felt like they should have just turned around and gone back to Diamond City. It was safe there, easy there. She had nothing to prove by going out on these increasingly long forays. That was what she told herself, anyway.

"Hey, Blue?"

Piper had been the one to suggest they travel north again. The fact that their feet were leading them up towards Sanctuary Hills again was mere coincidence. In her heart of hearts, she wasn't ready to go back yet. To see Codsworth again, to walk the street she'd once called home.

But Piper was a reporter. She needed stories. Sam owed this to her. Maybe it would help tie together everything she'd been trying to write since their interview.

"Blue, c'mon..."

She slowed her pace some, looking behind her as she walked. "Sorry, what's up Piper?"

The very name felt strange in her throat. That name belonged to someone, someone _real_. _All of this_ was _real_. She wasn't dreaming. She wasn't going to wake up.

Maybe it was their proximity to Sanctuary, their gradual approach to Concord. It reminded her, _inescapably_ , of those first moments in the new world. Thinking about it left her feeling cold each time.

Piper was talking again — something about her swatter, her choice to fight up close. The individual words blurred past her. Did she not get that it _wasn't_ a choice? That she was too scared to pick up a gun and fire it? Too _weak?_

But then everything stopped. She stopped. Piper stopped. Her thinking stopped, as did her heart.

"Piper, do you hear that?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw the woman reaching for her pistol. "What? I hear nothing."

True enough, there were barely any sounds. Not even a breeze. But in the distance, she heard the familiar pop of gunfire. And something else, something _new_ , like a muffled bolt of thunder.

She pointed to the sound. "Concord."

Piper lowered her gun and looked at her. "Yeah Blue, there's _always_ noise in Concord. It's just one of those towns. A hotbed for raiders."

"No," Sam flatly disagreed. "Something's different, this time."

She motioned for Piper to stay quiet. There it was again, almost predictable. It wasn't thunder; it sounded... somehow... _bright_. It was a sound she hadn't heard before, from any band of raiders, or really anywhere at all.

"Come on, Piper. Let's check this out!"

She had barely started to move when— "Blue, are you _crazy?!"_

She halted midstep and turned back around. "What? What are you talking about?"

The reporter's expression was not kind. "Blue, you want to go running into Concord, just the two of us, with nothing but my gun and your swatter?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, why not? We just took out a whole raiding party ourselves last night. Maybe there are people up here who need help too."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" her friend retorted. "And what are you going to do, just run up and bash every one of their faces in?"

Sam felt a sudden pain run through her heart. Did she really have to make this personal? "That's not fair, Piper. I don't want to kill people any more than you do. But if they're bad, right? You said so yourself!"

"That's not what I mean!" Piper sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes. "We don't know _what_ we'd be getting into, alright? I don't want to have to drag you out if you get shot down. I don't know if I'd even be _able to."_

Sam nodded, yielding to her point. "Then we'll play it safe, alright? I promise I won't go barging in... not like I was even planning to! Because _no_ , I'm not crazy."

Piper seemed to cringe a little, reliving her prior choice of words.

Sam forced a smile for her friend. "Come on, we'll be fine."

She turned and started to take a step forward again — towards Concord, towards this mystery — when she felt a hand yank on her arm, jerk her back into facing Piper _again_. She stumbled forward as she did. They were suddenly standing a lot closer to than they had a moment ago.

"Th- that's not the problem." Piper stammered. "You've s- seen me fight with you. Like, alongside you, I mean! That's fine! Or, well, I guess it's more _behind_ you, you know what I mean?"

Blue tilted her head a little a squinted her eyes. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"Blue... I'm asking... I've been trying to ask you all morning... Why do you always have to take the front? Why can't you stay back and just use a gun like I do?"

Samantha stood still, paralyzed. Not shocked — she'd seen this coming — just unsure how to reply. Her question was valid. _Too valid_. She lost herself in shame. What could she say? _'They just feel wrong in my hands?' Hah, like she'd buy that._

Piper waved a hand sarcastically. "Blue, you in there?"

Sam had to close her eyes, she was so ashamed of her own words. "I don't _know_ why I can't, Piper. I just know _that_ I can't. Before the war, after the war, young, old, even pretend. I _hate_ myself whenever I've had to use one. I can't explain it. It hurts me..."

She opened her eyes. She hated guns. She hated herself even more. "Okay?"

Piper looked confused by this. _Of course she did._ Sam couldn't blame her. It was her weakness — hew _flaw_. Impervious to common sense.

Sam turned and walked one final time towards Concord. Piper followed after her. "Hey, you gonna be alright?"

She had no idea if she was going to be alright. She hadn't had an idea of that since she'd left the Vault.


	26. Chapter 26

_"Let's get this over with, shall we?!"_

Their opening attempt at a quiet entrance had... not gone well. They had tripped a mine on their way into town, and while Blue's first reaction was to try to disarm it, Piper had gone with the opposite reaction. She'd tackled Blue, rolling both of them clear of the blast. They were guaranteed to both be alive, that way, but it had cost them the element of surprise. Even with all the other fighting going back and forth, an exploding mine was hard to miss.

Thanks to her knee-jerk fear, they were pinned down at the ground floor of an old house. Piper couldn't begin to guess what this place had been used for. Blue probably knew — she probably knew every one of these buildings. Her memory of the past was magnificent like that. But they weren't particularly in the mood to talk.

At least the windows of this house only ran partway down, providing cover they could duck behind. Piper poked out to fire the occasional potshot. Sam was crouched, silently waiting for one of the raiders to take the house by storm. _What a mistake that would be._ They didn't know how good of a swing Blue had.

As it happened, the next time she looked up and out to survey the fight, she saw one raider coming towards them. His face was hidden by some sort of mask — _why did they always have to dress so hideous?_ — and he looked to have a tire iron in his hand.

She leaned over and elbowed Sam. "Psst! You got a melee coming in, get ready!"

Blue nodded, and tightened her grip around the swatter's hilt. As the raider burst his way in, Sam flew into an upright position, bringing the bat up right into his chin. _Nice one_ , Piper thought.

Sam was standing mostly to one side of the doorframe. It afforded her a relative amount of protection from outside shots, but Piper still knew she owed her friend as much covering fire as she could manage. Still, she couldn't help but glance over between volleys.

The raider wound up for a great, big, intimidating blow, but left himself exposed. All it took from Blue was a jab of the bat into his abdomen, and the man lost his footing entirely. Piper had to work not to laugh. He tried for a quick overhead strike, but what Samantha lacked in brute strength, she made up for in agility and tactics. She raised the swatter up above her head at a diagonal, causing the tire iron to slide against it and never even _touch_ her body. She then swirled the bat around and over her head, transforming the block into a blow unloading her momentum directly into the raider's neck. _Yeah, Blue!_

As the raider stumbled into a faceplant on the floor, she noticed a sidearm fall away from him. A pipe pistol, from the look of it. _This was her chance._

Wordlessly, she reached over and tugged at Blue's shirt, before pointing. They both looked at the gun, and then each other.

Bullets literally whizzed over Piper's head. _'Please?'_ she mouthed.

Sam sighed and ducked down, picking up the weapon and crawling to Piper's side.

"Alright. I've _got a gun._ I hope you're happy."

Piper frowned a little. This wasn't about what _she_ wanted, didn't Blue get that? This was about _Blue's_ _own_ safety, her own _survival_. The gunfire outside was dying down. Piper had picked off a few of the raiders, and the rest were starting to retreat. She knew they'd be back, but at least they'd have a moment of calm.

Calm was the last thing she felt though, as Sam's pistol went off with a sharp _BANG!_

"Okay," Blue half-laughed, "I think I get how the safety works..."

Piper turned to reassure her, when she noticed the hooded raider getting back up to his feet. _Her last blow hadn't killed him?_

"Blue!" she yelled, pointing to the man. He faced them both, brandishing his tire iron. Piper reached for her gun but didn't immediately raise it. _Come on Blue... you can do this..._

And she did. She leveled the pipe pistol, waited until he stumbled directly into view and—

One shot, right in the chest. The man was down for good. One shot, and Blue looked ready to cry. There was definitely something going on, something perhaps not even Blue herself could understand.

But Piper held her tongue. This wasn't the time to confront her friend. Sam needed to be consoled, to be told that this would pass. She reached over to pat her on the shoulder, but she shrugged her off, refusing to even look her way.

"I'm an idiot!" She blurted. "Why did I drag us into this? What are we even doing here?"

Piper sighed, turning to look back outside, checking for no more signs of nearby raiders. Everything looked deserted, sure enough... except for one man. Piper had to look over and _up_ to see him. She hadn't noticed him before, standing on a balcony like that. She hadn't noticed what he was wearing.

 _No... No, it couldn't be. No way._

She looked back over to Blue. An energy was building up inside of Piper. A force of hope. Blue had been right all along, there _was_ a story to be found here — an _incredible_ one.

"What we're doing here, Blue? We're helping _him."_

Her friend looked up, eyes glazed over in fear and confusion. "Who?"

Piper pointed.

"Him?" the woman blinked. "Who's he?"

Piper grinned like she only could when she was hot on the trail of something big. "If he's a part of what I think he is? He's exactly the man you and I want to meet."

She stood up and offered Blue a hand. "You want to do good out here? You want to save the Commonwealth from raiders and wasteland? I think I just found your man. _Come on!"_


	27. Chapter 27

The last raider in the museum was dead. Piper had done most of the hard work taking them down, and Sam refused to forgive herself for it.

But she didn't have the luxury of being able to sit and wallow in her own self-pity. More raiders could come knocking any moment. They had to keep moving, to finish what they'd gotten into. Piper had said there was someone here she _had_ to meet — so where she ran, Sam followed.

The whole fight through the wreck of the museum had gone by like an uncomfortable dream. Everything inside was exactly as she remembered it — except for the _thousand_ ways in which it all had been destroyed. She felt dizzy from having to take it all in. She felt nauseous from not having the time to sit and process.

She followed Piper up one final flight of stairs, around a bend and down a hall. Suddenly, they were in a room with others. A man stood before her — darker skin, a scar up his left cheek. He had a hopeful smile that she wanted to reciprocate, but couldn't.

His gun had some sort of glowing beam running through it. _Were his shots what she had heard, what had made those ear-splitting, thunderous noises? Was that what had caught her attention and lured her into Concord?_

She remembered hearing about laser weapons, back in the day. Before her entire life and world had ended. Nate had used to talk about them, how they compared against conventional firearms. The details of his words had seemed so trivial at the time. Now, they were lost to her, like everything else about him. He seemed to slip away a little more with every passing day.

Sam was being talked to. She shook her head, dispelling the cobwebs of thought that had ensnared her.

"Yesterday, there were eight of us..." _Wait, what was he talking about? What had she missed? Was there a context to this?_ "...now, we're five."

 _Oh. Oh, shit._

The pang of guilt hit her like an atomic shockwave. She had been by Concord before. _Twice_. No, _three times_. She could have come here earlier. She could have helped. She could have saved _so many lives_.

Piper seemed to notice the pain on her face, as she reached out and gave her a small pat on the back. Sam couldn't fathom her. Couldn't wrap her heart around why Piper chose to stick around with her. She shrugged the helpful hand off as best she could, focusing her attention on the man in front of her. What was he saying now? _Minutemen?_ Was he in some sort of militia?

It had been a while since Sam had been in the company of a soldier.

Let alone a soldier who seemed to actually care.

* * *

Her instinct of a guess had been right. They _were_ a militia.

"Protect the people at a minute's notice." — _It definitely had a ring to it_. Their ideals sounded noble enough, not that Sam was one to often trust her intuition.

Yet here she was, helping them anyway.

What scared her the most, was that she couldn't say _why_. Because it was the right thing to do? Because they needed her help?

Where was _her_ help? Where was the ally with the miraculous lead to help her in her search for Shaun?

She sighed. These were _good_ _people_. They would have helped _her_ , had their situations been reversed. Maybe she _still would_ ask them for help, if they all survived this. Maybe she wouldn't. Her mind was too clouded to say.

Piper followed her loyally on her walk back down the flights of old museum. Apparently the fuel source they were looking for was in the basement. A _fusion core_ , whatever that was. This whole idea was crazy. Powering up a suit of power armor from before the War? Like any of them had any clue how to use such a thing — least of all her. Why was it always her?

And she was _really_ not digging Sturges' idea for her to use a _minigun_.

Piper kept remarkably quiet through all of this. Perhaps she was simply giving Sam some space. Or maybe she was trying to process matters on her own. Whatever the case, neither of them seemed in the mood to talk. Sam made a quiet, bitter peace with it.

They got to the basement. She could see the core — behind a locked door, just like the Minutemen had warned her. She looked at the terminal controlling the lock, and then at Piper. The reporter stared back blankly.

"Hey!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. _"I'm_ not the one who was alive when these things were _made."_

If things had been different between them in that moment, Sam would have laughed. She would have made some joking comment back. But this was not the time nor place.

She knelt down, reached into her pocket for a bobby pin. Her breathing steadied. _I can do this._

Everything seemed... _quieter_ , when she was lost in trying to pick a lock. It demanded her absolute focus — any less, and the pin would snap. She coaxed the lock into rotation with a chunk of old floorboard. She could feel splinters dig into her skin, but it didn't matter. It _couldn't_ matter. Her attention poured into the lock, into feeling what she couldn't see. It was a game of patience.

For a thief's skill, she found it oddly calming. Almost zen.

And then it opened.

"Blue, is there a lock you _can't_ pick?"

Samantha _did_ laugh this time. It was a relief for her to finally be able to. She looked back at Piper as she stepped inside the cage. "Oh _god_ yes. You just never see me try to pick them!"

Piper giggled back. It was even more of a relief for them to be back on speaking terms.

"Come on, Piper, let's not keep that Preston fellow waiting."


	28. Chapter 28

"Like _hell_ I'm going to just stand put!"

Piper's blood was boiling. She didn't care how much Blue felt bad for her actions, or like she had something to make up for, or to prove. Going out there by herself was _suicide_.

Blue tried to reason back at her. "Look, Piper, there's only one suit of power armor up there—"

"Blue, _no_ , this is stupid, this is crazy."

The redhead reached and put a hand on Piper's shoulder. Blue's sudden touch caught her off-guard, but it calmed her, too. After so much tension between the two of them all day, she welcomed the small reminder that things still could be okay.

"I'll be okay," Blue said, all-too fitting to Piper's thoughts. She opened the door and stepped halfway through it, before turning back at pointing at her. "Wait here. _Please."_

Piper opened her mouth in continued protest, but Blue shut the door before she could bring her words to bear.

* * *

She walked back into the room-full of survivors in defeat and disgust. She reached for a cigarette, _Blue be damned_.

Conveniently, her matchbook turned out to be missing. Of course it was missing. She searched her trench coat twice. _Nothing_.

She leaned against an old filing cabinet. On a better day, she would already be tearing through these drawers like a kid on Christmas morning. But not now. Something about Blue had gotten to her. Her _drive_ was missing.

One of the men walked towards her — the soldier, the actual Minuteman of the team.

"You alright there, ma'am?"

Piper laughed and rolled her eyes a little. "No. But are any of us ever?"

His smile conveyed complete and total understanding. For all that Piper liked Blue's company, it was relieving to speak with someone who had grown up in the Commonwealth just like she had. Someone who _got it_ just like she did.

"Hey," he said, "I don't think we've been introduced. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen."

He extended a hand and everything. It was almost charming. "Though... I guess you just heard me say that to your friend, didn't you?"

She laughed again, taking his hand and shaking it earnestly. This guy was endearing, she could give him that much.

"Piper Wright, Publick Occurrences." She paused. "...you know, the paper? From Diamond City?"

Preston squinted his eyes in thought. "Diamond City, sure. But, that other bit you said? Not ringing any bells, I'm afraid." Piper's heart sank. _Figures he hasn't heard of it._

She waved her hand, dismissing the subject. Her unlit cigarette was still between her fingers.

"Say, Preston, could I...?" She looked at the cigarette, and then to his musket.

He chuckled softly. "Smoking ain't _my_ thing, but sure."

She leaned in towards the exposed laser beam. The cigarette lit instantly, though the first few puffs left a strange taste in her mouth — like smoke from an electrical fire.

She leaned back against the cabinet. "So, _Quincy_ , huh?"

He gave a stern nod back. "The whole thing. _Damn Gunners._ We did what we could, but... you know how it's been for the Minutemen."

"Sure do." She reached into her pocket for a notebook, _just in case_. "News travels fast when you're in the center of it."

"I bet it does. You're really from Diamond City? What'd you do to land _that_ luxury?"

She shrugged awkwardly. "Wish I could say! They had an opening when my sis and I blew in. Feels like luck as much as anything else, looking back at it."

"Hey, best not to second guess when things go right, y'know?"

He dragged a nearby desk over so he could sit on it. Piper finished off her smoke.

"And your friend?"

"Oh, Blue? I mean, _uh_ —" she caught herself blushing. _"Samantha?_ Yeah, she's... not from around here."

Preston's eyes widened. "That's right! I noticed the Pip-Boy on her arm!"

She nodded back. "She's _recent_ , too. Stumbled out of her Vault no more than a few days before we crossed paths."

"Wow, no kidding. So, you're kind of like her guide, huh?"

She smiled. "I guess you could say that."

Out of the corner of her eye, Piper saw one of the other refugees stirring. An older lady, in a loose-fitting shirt and blue hat. She turned and met Piper's gaze head-on — her eyes were bloodshot, and their stare was distant, otherworldly.

"Ah, you're more to her than that, kid."

The old woman gestured for Piper to come closer. She did so unquestioningly, strangely transfixed by her words.

"You're her beacon on the dim-lit road to freedom. You know her pain... more than you'll admit."

She heard the thud of boots on wood as Preston walked over also. "Mama Murphy, have you been taking chems again?"

Piper waved him into silence. "Go on, ma'am."

The woman heaved a tired sigh, and spoke:

"Oh, kid. You're the _pen_ , _stronger_ than the sword... stronger than the _weapon_ she'll become. It _hurts_ for you to touch it, I know. You're scared to cut yourself on the _truth_ of what she is. And she's scared too. She wants to stand for what you follow... and you'll show her how. Until she falls. She goes somewhere you can't follow, on rails of light, and, metal wings. But you... you bring her _back_ , kid. She comes back whole again, just for you."

Then, as abruptly as she'd started speaking, her eyelids fell, and she dozed back into sleep.

Preston blinked at the old woman, then stared at Piper. "Did any of that make sense to you?"

Piper felt cold and short of breath, and somehow very much exposed. But she waved it all away as she so often liked to do, when hiding how she truly felt. "Does _anything_ she says make sense?"

He took the alibi, laughing the matter off and returning to his post. Piper stood up and looked around. She wondered what Blue was up to. It wouldn't hurt to go downstairs and take a peek outside, would it?


	29. Chapter 29

She stared into the open suit of power armor like she was staring down the barrel of a gun. The prospect of stepping inside and having it close around her was already suffocating. _How did anyone ever have the guts to use these?_

Compounding matters further was how rushed she felt. How rushed she'd felt all day, in fact. She hadn't had the time, the _space_ to process anything that had happened since they had stumbled into Concord. What she wouldn't do for an escape. For all of this to just be over. She just wanted to go _home_. Not that she had a home to go to.

She took a minute to lean against the wall, gathering herself. She listened to the holotape a second time. The old Staff Sergeant's words were haunting, but still more comforting than silence. Words had that effect on her. _Company_ had that effect on her. Some people's voices just had this, this _rhythm_ that she found comfort in. She felt her breathing stabilize, her heart rate slow. Real company would have been even better, but she made do. Part of her had regretting telling Piper to stay inside since the moment she had stepped through the door.

But it was better this way. Better for only one of them to go outside, to risk getting hurt. And Piper could help inside — help the others gather their belongings and prepare to hit the road.

That's what this was all about, anyway. _Them_. Not her. It didn't matter how much she didn't want to step into that power armor. None of this was about what she wanted, it was about what others needed.

She took a deep breath. _Come on, Red, you can do this._

She stepped forward and grabbed the frame, pulling herself up and in.

It took a minute for her hands and feet into find their proper place. _Would be nice if this thing came with directions,_ she thought. But she was a clever woman, she could figure this out. She wasn't _strong_ , but she made up for that in other ways.

As she started leaning forward into the frame, though, it spontaneously whirred to life. Pistons sounded as latches snapped into position, locking her arms and legs in place. She panicked, yet couldn't even move to act upon her fear. The entire suit of armor closed itself around her.

For a moment, there was dead silence and pitch darkness. All she could feel was her own heartbeat escalating all over again.

Then the lights came on. Dim, unobtrusive, projecting numbers and dials across the inside of her visor. The suit ceased to be a metal coffin, her arms easing out of their locked position and falling to her side.

She tried to lift one foot, and almost fell backwards. She was glad Piper hadn't come with her to see this. She would never live it down.

She tried again. One foot, then the next. _She could do this._

As she slowly started to walk the power armor forward, she could hear — even through crackled, centuries-old speakers — she sounds of raiders gathering below. She knew she didn't have the luxury of taking her time to get a better hang of this. She headed directly for the...

For the...

She sighed.

For the _minigun_.

She even _tried_ to grab it, but merely smacked the handle with her armor's wrist. _Right_ , she'd forgotten, her limbs her longer in this suit. Unwieldy, too. She tried again, slowly, wrapping her armor's mechanized fingers around the gun's handle and frame. She pulled.

Even through hands that were not her own, holding this weapon just felt _wrong_. She wanted to put it down. But she also still wanted to go home, and she knew how impossible _that_ was. This was a time for action, not for sentiment.

She stepped up to the front of the roof, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened; the barrel just spun. Did she have to _hold the trigger down? God._

The noise it made was like hell itself to her. She could only manage short bursts of gunfire every time, nothing meaningful. Her breathing started to become erratic. She knew she was willing to kill these raiders, just not like this. _Why?_

The raiders, meanwhile, did _not_ discriminate. Several of them took potshots at her, though largely missed. Then she saw one them _throw something_ at her. At first, she was confused.

Then her world exploded into fire.

She could feel the heat even through her armor. It disoriented her, made no better by her senses already being near full-panic. She stumbled forward — and suddenly, _freefall_.

The void in her stomach was overwhelming. She couldn't even feel her fear. She couldn't feel anything.

Yet as she heard the thundering crash of her impact with the ground, she continued to feel nothing. She stood back upright. Had the power armor cushioned her _entire fall?_

 _Pull yourself together, Red_. That's what she would have thought, if she could think. But the raiders were not relenting. She didn't have _time_ to think. All she could do was fight. Shoot. Murder.

She pulled on the trigger and didn't let go. Her aim was terrible, but with a _minigun_ at her disposal, it didn't matter. The raiders fell, shredded, one by one. Samantha felt terrible for her actions. She felt ready to die.

This was everything she had hated about the pistol Piper had made her use. Only, a dozen times louder, and a thousand times worse. The power armor. The minigun. She felt like a soldier, a _pre-War_ soldier, and she hated everything about it.

Her armor's sensors started producing various beeps and blips, none of which she knew how to interpret. Even over the sound of her own firing, she heard the sound of another gun, a _familiar_ gun. Still pointing the minigun against the raiders, she turned her head looked to her side. There she was, trench coat and cap, pistol drawn.

 _Damnit Piper, no!_


	30. Chapter 30

_Screw_ what Blue thought, Piper was going to help her friend.

She ducked behind a chunk of rubble for makeshift cover as she shot into the fray. Blue had the luxury of being able to just stand out in the open. No raider's gun was going to leave a _dent_ in that armor.

She took out one of them at least, before Blue could mow everybody down with the minigun she'd salvaged. Honestly, there was only so much Piper could do. She actually felt a little bit embarrassed, trying to assist. Maybe she should have stayed inside.

But then, things changed.

It started as a rumble, like a mounting earthquake, only distant. Then, just at the edge of visibility, far down the road, it emerged, smashing upward through the asphalt. In an instant, it was tearing through the raiders in the distance, overturning cars and thrashing with its claws.

Piper had only seen a Deathclaw once before. She felt her heart rate start to climb. She looked to Blue, who was already looking over at her. She couldn't tell what kind of face Blue was making through her power armor, but she could wager a pretty safe guess.

They both turned, both acted. Blue seemed to understand how much of a threat they were suddenly facing. She set the minigun down, and worked on reloading it. Piper knew she was a dead woman if she stayed on ground level. She reached over and knocked on the side of Blue's armor, before pointing to where she was headed. Blue nodded.

She took off, heart racing in sync with every footstep. Piper dove into the abandoned shop, running up the stairs two at a time, until she was at the rooftop. She could see everything from up here. This was good.

Samantha spun up her minigun and started to fire. Piper watched. She could watch the bullets' arc as they flew down the road, into the Deathclaw, grabbing its attention. Awe turned into fear as she watched it turn and run towards the armored woman, snaking back and forth as it went. Blue was clearly having trouble following its movements.

Breaking her worry, a bolt of red light flashed across her vision. She looked over to see Preston standing back out on the balcony. He offered her a quick glance back, and a supportive nod.

Piper started unloading her own pistol into the beast as well. "For all the good it'll do," she thought aloud. She wished there was something else she could do to contribute — some way she make a bigger difference. Her sidearm was intended for self-defense, not monster hunting.

The Deathclaw was practically on top of Blue at this point. She heard the sound of the minigun stop. _Please, don't let her be out of bullets_. She saw Blue reaching around for her last spare belt of ammunition. There was no way Blue would be able to reload with the Deathclaw tearing into her. She needed a distraction.

Piper set her pistol down as a lightbulb went off in her mind. She turned to look around.

 _Yes!_ There _had_ been raiders up on this roof earlier. She ran over between them, rummaging through their belongings. The first corpse turned up nothing, but the second had what she was looking for. She grabbed the bottle and ran back to where she had been shooting from, and _threw_.

Her breath stood still as the molotov spun through the air. It landed short of where she had intended. "Damnit!" _Damn her aim!_

The Deathclaw roared as the fire seared its tail. _Well, that's something, at least_. It gave Blue the critical moment she needed to get her minigun threaded and spinning up to fire once again.

Piper returned to her own gun and continued to fire, down to the final bullet on her body. From the corner of her eye, she could see Garvey continuing to crank and fire his musket. Scorch marks were clearly starting to form on the creature's hide. It even looked like it was starting to bleed. Maybe they really _could_ take this thing down.

Blue just stood her ground and kept her minigun spinning. That was the most important part, filling its underside with lead to the point that it just wouldn't be able to keep breathing. But the monster seemed to understand this too, as it reached out with a claw and struck Samantha sideways. The firing stopped.

Piper's eyes widened as Blue collapsed from the impact. The front of the minigun was bent. At least Sam looked in one piece.

Blue immediately grasped how much trouble she was in as well. She turned and ran, broken minigun still in hand, taking refuge in a shop across the street. The Deathclaw lunged, thrusting its arms in through the old storefront windows. Piper reminded of a cat reaching under a table for its prey.

Preston's firing ceased as well — whether from running out of fuel cells or just from the same stupefying worry Piper felt, she couldn't say.

Seconds passed. They felt like years.

And then, something exploded outward from inside the building. The Deathclaw recoiled, sounding its deep, unearthly howl, clawing at its own incinerated eyes.

Piper continued to watch, paralyzed and mesmerized, as Blue stormed back out of the building, power armor still intact. It definitely had some gashes in it, but it would hold. And... wait... was she holding her minigun _backwards?_

 _No. No, Blue you can't be..._

But she _was_. Her mechanical hands had the bent barrel held in a vicegrip — and she was using it as a _swatter_. She swung up at the Deathclaw twice, knocking the cretin over sideways. Then she brought the gun's damaged body crashing down over its head. There was one last howl, and then, nothing.

Piper almost wanted to applaud. But she realized how silly that would be. Blue's heroics had surely shaken her. Piper turned and ran downstairs. She wanted to be there for her friend.


	31. Chapter 31

"Piper..." she sighed, relieved. "Glad to see you're alright, too."

The reporter just stared at her. "You're certainly one to talk right now, Blue!"

She considered sassing back, but speaking through the power armor's helmet was disorienting. Honestly, more than anything, she just wanted out of the whole contraption. "Hey... help me out of this thing?"

"Oh! Yeah! Can do." She disappeared behind Sam's field of vision. She could feel the woman grab the access wheel and turn.

The rush of cool breeze was like medicine to Sam's sweaty, exhausted body. She almost fell backwards out of the suit. The air tasted magical, even with the smell of bleeding, charred, dead, _monster_.

She looked at mutated creature in disbelief. Part of her had thought it would somehow look less fantastical if she could see it with her own eyes.

"So... what, exactly, did we just kill?"

The reporter practically laughed at her. "That, Blue, is what we call a Deathclaw. Guess they didn't have those back in your day either, huh?"

She shook her head vehemently. Piper smiled back in understanding. "They scare the hell out of me too, Blue. Real nightmare fuel. Ask anyone you come across. Serious."

Samantha nodded. She had a firsthand understanding _why_.

Her whole body shivered. She looked around for somewhere she could sit. The nearby windowsill would do. She checked her improvised seat for broken glass, before promptly collapsing onto it. She buried her face in her hands. She was so shaken, she couldn't even bring herself to cry.

Piper's voice came before her touch. "Hey, it's okay. We're okay. You're gonna be okay."

Her friend's words lingered in the quiet. Sam felt a warmth build within her. Maybe she was right. Maybe she really would be fine. Eventually.

She nodded, smiling. Barely.

* * *

The sun was getting very low in the sky, so they split up to search through the wreckage separately. Piper took one side of the street, while Sam took the other. It was nice to be able to move at her own pace. To be able to breathe and actually let her mind catch up to her actions.

She was supposedly searching the raiders to see if they had anything of value on them. But all she could see were the bullet holes that she had left in them. It made her wince, made her want to run away in shame.

Piper, oblivious to all of this, called to her from another building.

"Blue, quit standing around! Come here, I've got something for ya!"

She shook herself out of her trance and crossed the street. Piper held up a pair of what looked to be leather shinguards.

"Try these on!" the reporter ordered, smiling at her earnestly.

Sam took the armor with a half-smile in return, then knelt down to buckle the straps around her legs. They were actually a perfect fit. _Nicely measured, Piper._

She stood up and tried taking a few steps with them on. _Yeah_ , she thought, _I could get used to these_. They weren't much, but they could help in a fight.

Piper nodded in affirmation, too, before snapping her fingers. "Oh! Also, I found this!"

She handed her another leather item — this time an entire bandolier. The extra pockets on it would definitely be welcome. Sam could wear this over her flannel, right?

It took a little work to get the buckles adjusted to fit her figure, but it felt like it would hold. She looked to her friend. "What do you think?"

Piper gave her a sarcastic look, hand against her chin. "I think that you deserve to wear _all_ the armor we can find, that you'll feel comfortable in."

Sam laughed dryly but heartily. "Better count that suit of power armor out of the running, then!"

They continued to rummage around, this time in proximity to one another. Piper seemed to be humming to herself as they went. Sam couldn't catch the tune, but it sounded to be something from _her_ time, from back before the War. Probably one of those tracks they play on the local radio station.

Sam found a wooden crate and heaved it open. Inside, she saw a whole cache of what appeared to be... _bottles?_ Bottles with some sort of cloth stoppers in them. Confused, she waved Piper over, and inquired about the box's contents.

"Oh my... that's a lot of..." she looked up. "Blue, you don't know what a molotov cocktail is?"

Sam paused for a moment in thought. She _had_ heard about these, just a long time ago. She'd never seen one in action, though. Prior to today.

"So these are the things that...?"

Piper nodded, predicting where her question was headed.

 _Wow_ , she thought. _I could do some real damage with a few of these_. She pulled two of them out of the crate, scared to grab any more than she could hold.

Sam had no desire whatsoever to use — or, hell, to even own — anything resembling a conventional gun. But maybe she could find something of a substitute in these makeshift grenades.

She stepped back outside, onto the main road. What used to be the main road, anyway. Everything around her seemed to fade into a muffled quiet. In her mind's eye, she could see this place for what it once had been. She remembered the parades here, the joy that people used to share. The brightly colored storefronts and the pleasant nothings everyone had talked about.

Part of her was glad that some of the old world's tendencies were gone. But she would have never wished for it to be replaced with _this_.

She felt Piper's hand on her back, like her friend could feel how lost in thought she was. Sam didn't shrug her off this time. Instead, she just looked back at her, and smiled.

"Hey, how about we go check in with Preston and the others, huh?"

Piper nodded and smiled in assent. They headed back to the museum. Together.


	32. Chapter 32

Piper wanted Blue to be the first one into the museum this time. She wanted her to take this at her own pace. That was what she needed. At least, she was imagined that was what would do Blue best. If she was reading her right. _Was she reading her right?_ Self-doubt started to climb into her heart. She adjusted her gloves, hands fiddling nervously.

Blue dutifully marched her way up and into the room where Preston and the others had established themselves, Piper trailing loyally behind. The mechanic among them — _Sturges, right?_ — threw his hands up in the air and cheered. Mama Murphy was asleep. The others just gave sidelong glances.

Preston walked up and put both his hands on Blue's shoulders and stared her in the eyes. _"Thank you,"_ he stated plainly. "Thank you so much. I don't know how you pulled that off, but we all owe you for it."

Blue rolled her eyes and tried to laugh the matter off. "You're welcome. I'm just glad I could help." She turned and looked over at Piper. "I'm glad _we_ could help."

Piper smiled back, but waved a hand in the air, dismissing the gratitude. This victory belonged to Blue. She accepted and respected that. She even admired it. Admired the strength in Blue, and how it coexisted with her sensitivity. She wasn't the warrior that her husband had been. Blue was figuring this all out for the first time.

She admitted to herself, Blue was actually inspiring to be around.

Sam continued making conversation with the soldier, and the mechanic too. She was practically _sure_ his name was Sturges. She just couldn't muster the confidence to ask — _what if she offended him on accident?_ Not that he seemed the type to mind. He was a good man, and Garvey too.

She loved being able to sit and listen to them. Preston was everything she'd imagined a Minuteman would be. Reserved, polite, but passionate as well. Blue, for her part, matched his style perfectly. She was considerate and careful with her words — but also supportive, empowering. Almost like a leader.

Part of her wanted to pull out her notebook and start writing immediately. This was the foundation of a _great_ next article. To be fair, she still had a backlog to clear up, from her original interview about Blue. But after all this, she felt like she really understood Blue on a whole new level.

Sam opened her mouth. Piper tuned back into her words.

"So now what? Where do you go now?"

"Actually," Preston answered, "there's a site not far from here that we're thinking of trying to settle in. Ever heard of somewhere called Sanctuary Hills?"

Blue flinched. Piper frowned at Blue's apparent pain.

But the moment seemed to pass before anybody else could notice it. Blue simply nodded in response. Then she opened her mouth again, offering to help them pack their things for their journey.

Piper leaned back just a little, as though trying to take in the magnitude of Samantha's actions. Here she was, exhausted from a day of suffering, physical and otherwise — and still offering to help others? And to help in a way that triggered painful memories of her past?

 _How deep did her kindness run?_

* * *

They were downstairs. Everyone was packed. Piper had taken a seat at the sidelines again, watching from a distance.

This wasn't like her. Usually, she would have been right up there in the thick with them. But something about Blue's behavior had cast a spell on her. Honestly, she was mostly waiting for everybody else to leave.

Sturges walked over to Blue and gave her a hardy pat on the back. Her friend practically stumbled from his forcefulness, but smiled back. They exchanged camaraderie for a few minutes. This was a different side to Blue. A side that Piper hoped to see more of in the future.

She reflected on how it really was Samantha who had done the hard work in today's fight. It had been _Blue's_ idea to come here — and, she realized, it had been her own idea for them not to. A trace of guilt ran through her. Maybe that was also part of why she sat on the side. She felt like she was somehow playing second fiddle to Blue in all this.

Her mind wandered, remembering what Mama Murphy had said to her, about being more than just her follower. It sent chills through her entire body.

She glanced over at the old woman, afraid that she wound find her staring back. But she wasn't. Murphy's eyes were fixed on Blue. She said something Piper couldn't quite make out, waved Blue over. Blue went to the woman's side, and knelt down as she whispered something in her ear. Piper ached to know what they were talking about.

She stood up and walked over, unable to suppress her curiosity. Maybe, at least, she could catch a _hint_ of what they were saying...

But then Blue stood up too. _Darn_. She tried to play it off. She had just walked over so she could see them all on their way out, _right?_

Preston slung his laser musket over and across his back, before turning to face them both. "Thank you again. Both of you. So much." He shook both of their hands one last time. _Such a good sport_.

He turned and gave Blue one last look. "You sure you won't join us?"

Blue's mouth flattened and she shook her head. "Not now. I've... got some other things that I need to take care of. But I'll visit! Someday. Promise."

Preston nodded understandingly, and headed out the door, followed by the others.

Sam closed the door behind them, then turned to face Piper. A smile crept across her face — a smile she never seemed able to share with anybody else.

Piper was practically glowing in admiration for her friend. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Always on good behavior, aren't ya?"


	33. Chapter 33

They seemed to be wrapping up their little talk.

"It's just nice to talk to someone who... who actually seems to _get it_ , y'know?

Their eyes met. Samantha fidgeted in place. Something about the woman's words cut through every emotional barrier she had.

"So, should we..." the reporter turned to glance outside. "Hrm, I guess it's a little late at night to head out, isn't it?"

Sam nodded in silence. Piper looked back at her and flashed a small, understanding smile.

"Well, this works too. The best we're going to have for beds will be what those raiders used. You okay with that?"

Sam didn't even have an opportunity to chime in before Piper walked out of the room. Not that she would have said anything. It was hard enough work for her to exist, to simply _be_. The thought of having to _do_ anything left her exhausted.

She tucked up her knees and leaned against the filing cabinet behind her. They had gone back upstairs to the top flight of the museum, where Preston and his companions had camped out not long ago. She wished nothing but the best for them.

Piper came back into her field of vision, dragging two sleeping bags behind her. Sam was reminded of the previous night — how just a full day prior they had been fighting off raiders south of here. A lot that night was hazy, but she remembered the pain, and the fear.

They couldn't keep this up. Sam just wasn't a fighter. Why did she continually end up having to be one?

Her friend, of course, was deaf to this inner monologue. She took off her trench coat, and cautiously slipped into a sleeping bag.

"Ugh, not gonna leave the bath for a week when we get out of here."

Sam forced a laugh. Her commentary on life really did help. It made the new world actually bearable. Made it _human_.

Piper looked up at her. "Hey, you alright? You're being awfully quiet over there."

Their eyes met again. Sam felt naked before her gaze. It was what she got for keeping company with a reporter. There was no keeping the truth from her. Not that she didn't still try.

"Yeah," she mumbled, her voice gravely and tired. "I'll be okay. I just need sleep."

Piper patted the sleeping bag next to her.

Sam sighed in understanding, and wordlessly crawled over and into the bed her friend had made for her. The sleeping bag didn't even smell that bad — the whole thing just felt icky. Like she was living in someone else's skin.

Again, Piper did not seem to catch these finer details. She just smiled, clearly tired. She grabbed the nearby lantern and blew out the flame.

"Goodnight, Blue." A moment's noise of Piper shuffling into place, then silence.

The darkness took a minute to adjust to. There were vague, gentle moonbeams trailing in through the old windows. Sam tried to relax in her bag, and sleep.

But sleep refused to come.

She started at the ceiling, at the windows, at the silhouette of her now-sleeping friend. She had no idea for how long — too tired to think of checking her Pip-Boy. Not that it even mattered. Time was irrelevant. Everything was a blur.

Her head and heart had too much work to do to sleep. One by one, the walls inside of her came down, and she began to process.

All of this was happening. All of this was real. Piper, Preston, the others... they were living people. The raiders, they... well, they had been living people too, until Sam _murdered_ them.

She felt so alone, so disconnected. She was trying to live in a way that seemed to run contrary to anything that anyone expected.

Rolling over and reaching for her pack, Sam pulled out an old holotape. Even in the dim light, she could make out the words "Hi Honey!" written on the label. Written in his handwriting.

It was tempting, to listen to his long-lost words, to surrender herself to his familiar voice. But something in her resisted. Said it wasn't right. She didn't want to belong to the past anymore.

Could she really belong to the future?

She turned the tape over a few times in her hands. Usually, she would attribute something like this to her weakness. She'd call herself too weak, too lacking in will, to listen to Nate's message across time. But was that what was really going on here?

She stuffed the tape back into her bag. _Another time, perhaps_.

Lying on her back again, she felt the itch of unresolved tension in her body. There was no way she could fall asleep like this.

She crawled out of her bag as quietly as she could, and tiptoed to the balcony door. It creaked loudly as she opened it, but Piper didn't seem to stir. _Heavy sleeper_ , Sam supposed. She stepped outside and shut the door behind her.

It was cold out, but it was quiet too. No wind howling through the trees. No distant gunfire. For once, the Commonwealth seemed to be asleep.

She felt her sanity pull itself together — like everything had been just slightly out of focus without her even knowing. She looked out over the ruins of Concord, and took in gulping, liberating breaths of air.

She wondered what the future held for her. She wondered what Mama Murphy had meant by what she'd whispered in her ear.

Her body began to shiver. Standing out here was therapeutic, but too much of it was perhaps unwise. The last thing she needed now was to catch a cold. Did the Commonwealth even _have_ doctors anymore?

Before turning back in for the night, Samantha briefly looked up into the sky. At least the moon was still the same. It was a strangely effective comfort for her, knowing that there were some things out there humanity _hadn't_ tarnished.

She headed back inside, seeking warmth, seeking solace. Seeking sleep.


	34. Chapter 34

Piper woke up with the early morning light. She tried to remember her dreams, but nothing clear came to mind. She just remembered feeling... guilt, and worry, too. She tried her best to shrug it off.

Shrugging proved painful though, as she realized just how sore her body was.

 _Easy, girl_ , she told herself. It was important to take things slowly and with care. Her muscles were sore because of how much she had worked them. They needed time and energy to heal.

Wisdom from her caravan days showed up in the weirdest places.

Slowly, shifting one side of her body at a time, she rolled over. The sleeping bag rolled with her. She was so ready to get out of this disgusting sack — but the room just felt _so_ cold. Interests conflicted inside of her. The sleeping bag won out, if only for another minute.

She used that minute to focus her attention on Samantha. The redhead was still asleep, her face surprisingly tranquil. Even in her sleep, Blue was trying to hide her pain.

Piper had felt the pain in her, last night. Despite her best attempts. Part of her regretted not being more vocal about it.

 _What's done is done_ , she told herself. She turned and reached for her trench coat and her cap. The leather was cold to the touch, enough to make Piper wince with regret. She should have kept the coat in the sleeping bag with her. At least then it would have been warm.

She forced herself to crawl out of bed, trying her best to not wake her sleeping friend. Blue groaned a little as floorboards creaked beneath her weight, but didn't truly stir. Piper sighed in relief, and made her way out of the room and downstairs.

* * *

It was an idyllic morning out. The air was crisp and clear, and the sun shone down bright and beautiful. Even with the sun, though, it was cold out.

She worked on starting up a fire. Fuel was never in short supply throughout the Commonwealth, and she found a flip lighter on the side of the road. With a little luck, this would make the difference in turning Blue's mood positive for the day. She really wanted to share the beauty of the day with her.

The flame caught, slowly lapping its way up tattered rags and splintered chunks of ancient lumber. She left the fire to be a fire, and set herself to work on dragging raider corpses off the road. Maybe it would help Blue to not see so much death everywhere. Heck, it was already making _her_ feel better.

She turned her gaze towards the Deathclaw. _No moving that thing_ , she thought.

Her mind wandered back to the previous day. There were visible cracks in the horn from where Blue had struck it. She'd never seen anybody fight like that before.

Blue played by different rules than most folks in the Commonwealth — of that, there was no denying. It was part of why she stuck around her so often, and so much. They each had so much to learn from the other.

Blue would be sore from yesterday as well. They could both use some serious nourishment.

Piper looked back at the Deathclaw. Grudgingly, she accepted the task in front of her. This was the side of survivalist life that she was not a fan of.

Sighing, she walked off in search of a knife.

* * *

Rummaging through dead bodies for loot was never easy on her nerves. If Blue were around, she might make some offhand comment about how it was free for the taking or better in their hands anyway. But the truth was, Piper hated being around death.

Still, she did what had to be done, and came back with a combat knife in hand. A serrated one, too. She'd need it for a job like this.

She stared at the enormous corpse with a momentary pause, then drove the knife into its hide.

Blood instantly spurted out of the wound site, spattering her trench coat. _Deal with that later_ , she thought. _It's red anyway_. She took the knife's handle with both hands. Slowly, the sharp metal dug a trench through the creature's muscle.

Even a bite-sized chunk took a couple of minutes to extract, but it wasn't like they were in a rush that morning. Piece by piece, Piper set bits of meat aside for grilling.

Eventually, she carved out enough — or what she figured was enough — to feed the both of them for the next stage of their journey. Piper didn't even know where they were headed that day. She wanted to consult with Blue before she made any assumptions.

She looked up to the balcony, thinking about the woman inside. She wondered if Blue was up yet. She wondered what kinds of dreams she had.

Piper started to worry, to doubt herself. was she rushing Blue into all this? Was she forcing her to help others more than she should have been? After all, who was looking after her? _You, Piper?_ All she could do was be there next to Blue as she felt her own way through the pain. Her friend deserved better.

The fire crackled and suddenly popped, breaking her trance. She considered getting started on cooking up their breakfast. Though it occurred to her, did they have any water?

There was an old pump nearby, still mostly functional. Judging by the color of the water that came out as she pumped it, though, this stuff was definitely not drinkable.

"This never would have been a problem in _her_ day."

The Commonwealth was nothing new to Piper — after all, it was the only life she'd ever known. But Blue... Blue had come from a better time. A happier time. The remnants of her old world were all around them, a constant reminder of the lives they could have lived.

She sighed, wiped her brow, and headed back to tend the fire.


	35. Chapter 35

The entire morning had been a blur for Samantha. She was tired even after trying to sleep, hungry even after Piper had gone out of her way to make them food, angry and lonely even in the company of her friend. It was hard for her to focus, impossible for her to find her words. She had gone through the motions of packing and walking like she was wandering a dream. Everything was slipping by.

But all of that came to a sudden, crashing stop when Piper took her hand.

Even with the world around her still slightly in a haze, her face stood out to Sam as crystal clear. She turned to face the reporter directly, rather than just looking at her sideways. The reporter, for her part, took the opportunity to reach over and grab Sam's other hand as well.

Sam was surprised, and felt unusual. _What was Piper playing at?_

"Blue, talk to me." Her voice was sharp, but her gaze was earnest. "You've been quiet all day. Like, quieter than usual. It's kind of freaking me out. Is everything alright up in there?" She let go with one hand and gave Sam a tap on the forehead.

This was really unlike Piper. She'd been talkative and pushy in the past, sure, but usually she kept her hands and gestures to herself. Sam felt bad; she really was out of it, but she hadn't meant for it to bother, let alone scare, her friend.

She took in a deep, long breath. "I'm sorry, Piper. I honestly can't say how I'm doing. I _feel_ fine right now, _good_ even," she glanced down at the one hand-hold they still shared. Piper took notice as well and immediately released her grasp, stuffing both hands back into her pockets.

Sam smirked. "But yeah, it's been... it's been rough, these past few days."

Piper returned the tired smile with one of her own.

"That's an understatement. I'm honestly a bit surprised, Blue. I mean, I've loved going around and helping people in need as much as we have..." Her smile was earnest. It warmed Samantha from the inside in a way that even the beating sunlight couldn't.

"But there are so many other ways that we can help. Ways that don't involve getting caught up in fights all the time." She smiled wryly. "Assuming you still insist that you're not a fighter, that is."

"I'm not!" Samantha stammered back.

"Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that."

They continued walking.

Everything around Sam seemed so much clearer. She felt like she had woken up from a dream, or from the verge of falling into one. She was glad Piper had grabbed her hand, forced her into conversation. It had brought her back into the present.

Her mind lingered on Piper's words, but not in the constrictive way she had sometimes done in the past. This felt different. Their talk felt real — heartfelt, but at the same time frank. Sam felt like she could speak her mind, and even if Piper teased her, she knew she wouldn't judge her.

"Would you believe me if I said I didn't know what else there was to do besides just fight?"

Piper replied without even needing time to think. "Well for starters, there's always journalism!"

"Sure," Sam countered, "but isn't that just fighting in a different way? You're using a pen instead of a sword, but the idea is still the same."

The reporter stopped mid-stride. She turned to face Sam. Her eyes had an intensity to them they hadn't, moments prior. "What did you just say?"

Samantha blinked.

Piper repeated herself. "About swords and pens?"

Sam took a moment to replay the sentence in her mind. "Oh! You've never heard that before? It's a saying, or... _was_ one I suppose." she cleared her throat, and took a half-step back.

 _"The pen is mightier than the sword_. It means that good writing can accomplish things that no battle ever could."

She looked back at her friend and raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Like it, huh? Pretty fitting for someone of your profession."

Piper did not reciprocate her smile, seeming strangely lost in thought.

Sam coughed. "Piper?"

The woman snapped back into the present. "Yeah! Hey, sorry. I was... I was trying to remember if I'd ever heard it before. Or- or not."

She turned and continued walking. Samantha furrowed her eyebrows, but decided to drop the matter and simply follow suit.

The sky was bright, and a gentle breeze was blowing all around them. Even with the Commonwealth reduced to such a wasteland, Sam was starting to get used to walking up and down these railroad tracks the way she'd used to. A few old landmarks had survived. It was an almost-pleasant reminder of her past. _Almost_.

The quiet between them _was_ pleasant, far from awkward. But Sam wanted to keep talking.

"Hey Piper..."

"Yeah Blue?"

She felt herself smile almost instinctively. _That stupid nickname_. She hated to admit it, but it actually kind of made her happy to hear her friend use it on her.

 _"Thank you."_ She took a moment to pull the rest of her words together. Piper gave her a sidelong glance of confusion. "For... for being willing to turn back, with me. To go back to Diamond City. I know we got all the way up to Concord, and you said you wanted to see Sanctuary for yourself, but..."

Piper interrupted before Sam had a chance to stumble over her words any further. "Of course! I'm glad we're going back, honestly. Being away for days on end, I can't help but worry about Nat."

Sam suddenly imagined herself exchanging stories with the reporter's little sister. Maybe over tea, like they'd done the other week.

"Nat's a big girl," she offered, smiling reassuringly.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Piper rolled her eyes, then smiled back. "Thanks, Blue."

They kept walking on in happy, trusting quiet. Their hands brushed. If either of them noticed, neither one objected.


	36. Chapter 36

They were back at Oberland Station. Piper worked the water pump while Blue sat in the shade and recovered her strength.

It was strange to think that mere days prior, they had been here for the first time. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. The fights. The talks.

It had been a hard couple of days, but the experience had also allowed Piper to see her friend in a new light. She felt ready to finally sit down and _really write_ the upcoming article about her. That was the other reason she was glad to be heading home.

The local farming couple came over and struck up conversation with Samantha. Piper couldn't make out their exact words over the sound of the water pump, but the sentiment was clear — they were offering their thanks, again, for how the two of them had helped against the raiding party. And Blue, _classic, classic Blue_ , just wanted to make sure everything else was fine for the two settlers.

 _Always on the lookout for others_ , she thought. It was admirable. Sometimes even a little bit obnoxious, if only because of the work ethic that underlay her constant compassion. It left Piper feeling almost _lazy_.

She finished pumping. One of the farmhands came and helped her haul the pot of water into place above the nearby campfire. Blue wrapped up her conversation, and the settlers went back to their duties. Piper sat down in the shade next to her redhead friend. There was nothing for them to do now but wait for the water to boil those excess rads away.

"Hey, thanks," Sam said as soon as they were side-by-side. "I know it sets our timetable back a bit, but... taking the time to clean some water for me like this..."

"Of course!" she interrupted. "You'd do it for me, Blue, were our roles reversed. Don't try to deny it!"

She considered playfully ribbing her friend in addition to her words, but the act proved unnecessarily. Blue fidgeted enough just from having the truth laid bare before her. "You're right," she admitted. "Ugh, I'm such a sap."

"And that's a _good_ thing," Piper replied. Blue was _such_ a good person. She couldn't help but smile thinking about it — the expression just came to her naturally, it seemed. "We need more people like you in the Commonwealth."

Blue smiled back.

Piper was ecstatic, but scared to let it fully show. So she just sat and smiled instead, grateful to be so close to such a source of happiness and good. With anybody else, she would have forced a constant conversation. But with Blue, quiet moments actually felt okay.

Their eyes met. Neither of them looked away. Piper suddenly started to feel flustered.

 _"What?"_ she stammered.

Blue blinked. "What, what?"

"You were just..." but she realized, not even _she_ knew where her sentence was headed. "Oh, never mind!"

"Fine," Blue said, laughing. "I wasn't minding to begin with."

It was Piper's turn to fidget in place. She tried allowing her mind to wander, but for once it seemed content to stay in the moment. _Some help you are_ , she thought to herself.

She looked back at Blue. "Cap for your thoughts?"

Blue returned the glance. "Alright," she said. "But you gotta pay up first."

She couldn't believe her friend. "Oh my god, are you seriously—" she rolled her eyes, and reached into her pocket. "Fine, _here_ , punk! Your thoughts had _better_ be good."

They both ended up laughing at the whole exchange. Blue twirled the cap in her fingers, clearly lost in pulling her thoughts together. The mood shifted.

"I've been thinking," Sam opened, "about the conversation we had, the other night. In the Museum of Freedom?"

Piper felt a small chill pass through her. "Go on..."

Blue continued fiddling with the bottlecap. "You _really_ don't like raiders, do you?"

The chill inside her turned to heat. A fire of complete disdain. "You could, uh... you could say that, yeah." She thought for a moment. "For multiple reasons, Blue, not just my own past with them, you need to understand that."

"I do," Sam reassured. "And for what it's worth, I think I know the feeling."

Blue reached over and patted her on the knee. Piper's thoughts in response were mixed. Her friend meant well, at any rate. But she didn't enjoy having her tragedies compared to others' — something about it didn't sit right with her. The gesture was nice, at least.

"Just, keep going, if you don't mind."

Blue nodded. "Right. So, raiders. Real bad."

She could see Blue turning and looking at her. Looking _into_ her. She averted her own gaze, taking sudden interest in whatever was trying to grow out of the dirt.

"But you'd _still_ prefer a raider attack on Diamond City."

That caught Piper's attention. She looked up, looked back into Blue's eyes with her own. This time, she was determined not to let the eye contact bother her.

"Over the infiltration of an Institute synth?" she clarified. "Yes. Any day."

She could practically see where the train of thought was going, at that point. "The Institute really is _that_ scary, Blue."

No reply came. Blue just nodded in a quiet, humbled kind of understanding. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to rest against the wall.

"Sorry if I pushed, Piper."

"No, it's- it's alright," she said back automatically. "And I get it. You have your doubts. You've never lost anybody to the Institute. You don't know what it's like."

She looked back down to the ground herself. "And to be fair, neither do I, first hand. But I've known others who have. And I wouldn't wish it on either of us."

A quiet fear crept into Piper's mind. She wished she had someone willing to hold her.

She desperately sought to change the subject. "But hey," she said, standing up, "let's see how that water's doing, eh?"

Blue nodded, and packed to leave.


	37. Chapter 37

The journey was over. They were back in Diamond City. Sam still had countless reservations about calling this place a home, but it was definitely safe. She felt like she could finally let her guard down, now that they had made it past the Wall.

Piper seemed to read these feelings off her like a book, as she smiled back without even needing words. All the hardships they'd faced on their journey north, against others or between each other, all just seemed to vanish from their minds.

It was definitely nice to be back.

The walked down the main city stairs towards Piper's home, the giant _Publick Occurrences_ sign glowing green as it always did. Nat was standing on a crate out front, advertising the paper in that way only a child could. As soon as she took notice of them, though, she hopped off her box and sprinted right into her older sister.

"Piper, you're _back!"_ she exclaimed, hugging so hard she almost knocked the woman over. Then, as quickly as she had approached, she jumped a half-step back. "Guess what, sis?" She practically bounced as she spoke. "The hairbrush you lost? I _found it_ while you were gone! It was _upstairs_ , under _your_ bed."

Nat stood triumphant, hands on hips, like she had solved the greatest mystery in Boston.

Sam watched from the sidelines, struggling to keep her laughter stifled. Her eyes shifted to Piper, who was already speaking volumes with her body language.

"What do you mean, _I lost?"_ she snapped back. "And what exactly were you doing upstairs, anyway? You know full-well my room is off-limits while I'm out!"

Nat's expression froze for a full five seconds, before spontaneously turning her attention to Sam. "Lady! You're back too!"

Piper sighed in defeat. Sam laughed, and knelt down to get on Nat's level.

"Heck yeah I am!" She stuck a hand out for a high five, which Nat promptly gave. "You been good while we were out? Sold lots of papers for you and your sister?"

 _"Been good?"_ Nat retorted. "You're not my mom, lady. _No one is!_ Right sis?" Piper just rolled her eyes and met Sam's gaze. _She's your problem now, Blue_ , her expression seemed to say.

"But _yeah,"_ the papergirl continued. _"Oh yeah_. We're practically sold out on the synths issue. Do you _believe_ us about the Institute yet, lady? Don't say I didn't try to warn you!"

Sam laughed dryly. "Well, not to worry, Nat!" she replied. "Piper and I went on all sorts of adventures while we were gone. Plenty of material for your next publication."

Nat wheeled about to face her sister, eyes wide. "Really? What did you do? Did you fight _bad guys?"_

The sentiment on Piper's face read loud and clear — _Blue, don't. Please._

It was tempting, for a moment. To tell Nat everything. The raiders. The lasers. The Minutemen. The Deathclaw. But she tempered the sudden flair for wild action with consideration for her friend. It wouldn't be right to get Nat all hyped up and then just leave her for Piper to deal with. That would be _mean_ , not funny. If Piper didn't want her sister to be left dreaming about battles with Deathclaws, who was Sam to argue?

"I'm sure your sister will tell you everything that you deserve to hear," she concluded. As she stood up, she could have sworn she actually saw Piper mouthing _thank you_ at her. But the moment passed, and Natalie, heaving her classic sigh, took off back inside.

Sam and Piper stood and simply looked at each other for a moment. The sky was fading from twilight into nighttime proper. The first few stars would be coming out soon.

Piper spoke first. "So, I guess this is it for now?"

Sam smiled, but also sighed. "I guess. I mean, sure, yeah. You've got a job to do, after all. A family to look after."

Piper shrugged in response. "True. But hey, if you ever want to hit the road again, y'know..."

"Yeah," Sam interrupted, her smile accompanied by a happy warmth. "I know."

There was a final moment's pause. Piper seemed to be sizing her up for something. Sam contemplated stepping in closer for a friendly hug — but a sudden drop in her stomach left her feeling quieter and more reserved than usual. She held herself back. _I shouldn't_ , she told herself. _It wouldn't be right_.

Piper's expression leveled out. "See ya 'round, Blue."

"Yeah," Sam said again. She felt stupid as soon as the word left her lips. "Take care."

They turned their separate ways. It surprised her, how much it hurt to walk away. Part of her wanted to go back, to try the conversation over. Maybe she could have just stayed over to visit for an hour or two. She could have kept Nat occupied while Piper took care of things around the house. The company would have been welcome — Sam was feeling lonely already.

But there was no going back. No rewinding time. That was the ultimate lesson she had come to learn from this new, harsh world. So she buried her feelings, and let the warmth inside her fade.

She headed to the Dugout, passing residents along the way. A fragment of conversation caught her ears — "A real Diamond City boy eats at the noodle stand!"

Sam laughed internally. More like a real Diamond City boy can _survive_ the noodle stand.

Her return to the inn was anything but spectacular. Vadim was caught up with other patrons, which suited her just fine. Her transaction with Yefim was simply business. She pulled the door shut and locked it behind her, unbuckling her newfound armor and shaking off her clothes.

 _Really need to get myself a second set of clothes_ , she thought. But her mind was already wandering to other matters. She shut off the lights and crawled into bed.

Samantha was more tired than she thought. Her thoughts evaporated, fading into the smoky stuff of dreams.


	38. Chapter 38

"Oh my god, sis, the two of you seriously... all by your... that is so _cool!"_

Piper facepalmed and sighed. "No, Nat," she said through nearly gritted teeth. "It's not cool. It's dangerous! Either one of us could have gotten killed out there, or even just seriously hurt!" Internally, she still nursed a fear that Blue _had_ been seriously hurt — just in a way that physical checkups couldn't measure.

Nat's comeback was practically desperate. "But... nothing bad actually _happened_ , right? So, it's _okay."_

"That's not the point. It's about what could have happened."

Nat sank into the sofa, slouching in mixed defeat and disregard. "You sound like a _grown-up_. Why go _anywhere_ then, sis? Why _do_ anything if you're _scared_ of everything that _might_ go wrong?"

Piper's teeth continued to grind, but she felt the heat of the argument subside in her — like a weapon spinning down and cooling off after firing. Her sister had a point.

The truth was, Piper enjoyed the thrill of a good risk. She was a journalist, after all; getting into trouble was part of the job.

But Nat was still so young — practically a child, barely entering her teens. She didn't know how to look after herself like an adult. Piper had learned to temper her hopeless romantic side with pragmatism and working knowledge.

"That's it, Nat," she stated coldly. "No more stories tonight. I've already said too much, apparently."

They barely made eye contact, but the look of betrayal on her sister's face cut Piper to the bone. Without a word of protest or disagreement, Nat jumped off the couch and fled into her room, hiding behind the wall of cinderblocks where nobody would bother her.

Piper stood in the emptiness. She could feel the silence that had fallen out of their aborted conversation. Everything around her seemed somber — _judging_ , almost.

She hated how much of a contradiction she became at times like these. Usually, she held Truth on the highest of pedestals. But with Nat, the prospect of sharing the truth was terrifying for her. She didn't feel like she could trust her sister with it. Most folks, most grown-ups, anyway, Piper felt like she could trust to draw their own conclusions.

But what if Nat's conclusions were wrong? What if she made an error in her judgement, refused to see how scary something really was? What if she got in trouble? What if she got hurt? What if she got—

Piper choked on her own imagined words. Even the thought was overwhelming. She couldn't be responsible for causing her own beloved sister pain. She'd do anything to protect her and hers. Even if it meant killing. Even if it meant lying.

She gave up. There wasn't going to be any reasoning with Nat that night. She turned and briefly paced across the room, seeking an escape. _What would Blue do?_ What would she do if Blue were with her?

She would make tea.

* * *

Her old office seat. Everything about it was familiar to her. Sitting down in it was like greeting an old friend. She kicked back, as she liked to do, and tried to calm her mind. The tea she'd brewed was still too hot to drink. She needed something else to distact her.

She caught her hands reaching for a pack of cigarettes. The temptation was strong. _Disturbingly_ strong. She closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on Blue. It had been _her_ idea for her to give it up, after all. Her request. How could Piper not do this for her friend?

She grabbed the pack and tossed it in the nearby garbage bin — not that it necessarily made a major difference, being in a desk or in a trash can. She'd scavenged a smoke from less sanitary places in the past. Still, there was something symbolic to the gesture. It was another day's painful victory over her old, acquired vice.

She leaned forward and reached to power up her terminal. Lines of incoherent text flashed across the screen. All part of the mystical "boot-up" process. Piper quietly marveled at how anybody could have ever built anything as complex as a _computer_.

It would still take another minute or two for the terminal to finish loading. So, to pass the time, she reached into her pack and pulled out every note on Blue she had. Her handwriting could stand to be better, and it saddened her to know it. She was trying to create a professional newspaper, after all, not a bunch of half-scrawled notes to the populace of Diamond City.

She was about to give the tea a sip, when she heard her sister's voice call out to her. It was quiet, timid even.

"Hey, Piper?"

She set the mug back down on her desk and went downstairs, taking a moment's pause before stepping past the cinderblock wall. Nat's so-called room didn't even have a door; the least she could do out of respect was try to wait for permission before she entered.

Nat was sitting beside her sleeping bag, scribbling on the floor in chalk. Piper knelt down next to her. "What's up, kiddo?"

She didn't look up from her drawing.

"I'm... I'm sorry. If I scare you, sis. You shouldn't have to worry about me, on top of everything else."

Of all the things to feel that night, Piper had not expected to feel her heart melt.

"Oh Natalie... come over here." She leaned forward and pulled her sister into a hug. Nat resisted at first, but ultimately caved. They held each other for a long time.

This was the hug Piper had needed. The hug that she had almost tried to share with Blue, before she'd left for bed. Almost.

They didn't say anything after they let go. They didn't need to — sibling love had a way of transcending words. Quiet, happy, Piper headed back upstairs. Her tea would certainly be ready by now, as would her terminal.

And she was ready, too.


	39. Chapter 39

She walked down nameless roads beneath an ever darkening sky. The dimming light, without a setting sun, cast the world around her in a suffocating grey.

Breathing became difficult. So did swallowing. So did movement. Liquid metal trickled down her throat, coating her interior with shameful inhumanity. She wanted to speak — to call and ask if anybody else was still alive. But when she opened her mouth, her words were drowned out by a different sound. The sound of gunfire.

Windows and doors slammed shut as glass panes shattered and frames were riddled with bullet holes. She could hear a distant screaming mob. She could feel the voices cut her. She could feel her throat begin to bleed.

"Please," she tried to say aloud, but was once more overwritten by the clamor of warfare. All she wanted was to not be left alone. Yet everybody ran from her. She stood amidst a crowd — pointing, blaming, crying.

She opened her mouth to shout back at them in protest. _They would never understand her pain!_ _How could they know the injustice of the world she'd left behind?_ Her accusations cut like bullets through the air, gunning down the maddened crowd before they could even hide.

Everything about her voice was wrong. Her words _became_ the gunfire, shrill and piercing as a minigun, cutting ties and ending lives she'd never had the time to know. _She shouldn't be doing this_. It wasn't her _right_.

She couldn't bear it. She needed out. But the hail of murder wouldn't stop. She couldn't stop. She wasn't strong enough.

Her hate was tangible in every bullet. She forced her mouth shut with her hands, but the chaos roared around her still. She had brought this hatred with her to the future — now, given word and form, it had escaped. And she was powerless against it.

She screamed into the darkness. The starless heavens cracked beneath her battle-cry, shards of night collapsing all around her. Everything went quiet. The dream began to splinter. She felt herself slipping. Falling.

Waking up.

* * *

Samantha welcomed the cold wholeheartedly as she stepped out of the Dugout. It sharpened her senses, forced her to focus on the world around her. She hated the way she lost herself in dreams — especially in nightmares.

Not even sleep was safe.

Sam wandered the streets of Diamond City, unsure where she was going. She bumped into something — someone, she realized, from the grunting noise they made back. The person's voice was gruff, like old machinery. "Hey, watch where you're going, huh?!"

She recognized that voice. That face, with his scraggly beard, his paint-spattered hard hat.

"Sorry, Abbot." Her apology was in earnest.

"Huh? Oh! It's you!" His expression shifted. The way he warmed to her so quickly, it almost made her cry.

She tried to wave it off, to laugh it off, but her voice cracked. The pain of the bad dream surfaced all at once. All in front of this innocent, oblivious old man.

She turned to run away in shame, but a strong grasp held her in place, turned her back to face him. His old eyes reflected a pitying sadness, an unexpected compassion.

"You look in no shape to be runnin' off, miss. Come with me. Ain't like I got anything better doing, right?"

Sam choked back a sob as he led her out past the alleyways, still not letting go of her arm. His grip was a little rough, but he meant well, right?

He let go of her as they stopped in front of a metal door. He turned to her while he fiddled with a large ring of keys. "This is my house. You don't have to come in," his eyes fixated on hers "but between coming in here, and staying out in the cold, the dark, all by yourself? I know what I'd pick."

Samantha managed a faint smile and nodded. Abbot nodded back, unsmiling, and opened the door to his abode.

The one-room home was small, and dimly lit. It didn't feel much warmer either. "Sorry 'bout the mess..." Abbott kicked a pile of cans to one side. "Don't exactly get much for visitors."

Sam was still in shock over how dingy of a place it was. Publick Occurrences was a palace compared to this. She felt sorry for the old man.

Abbott pulled up and chair and gestured for her to sit. His actions were deliberate, forceful. Far from the graceful motions she had started to get used to from her time with Piper. She sat down in the chair and buried her face in her hands, sobs quietly returning.

She could feel the old man's eyes on her, could hear as he squatted down to get on her level, felt as he patted one calloused hand against her shoulder. "Get somethin' hot in you, kid, that always helps. You want a cup of coffee?"

Sam looked up, speaking in a still-cracked tone. "Don't suppose... you have tea?"

He stood up wordlessly and rummaged through a toolbox. "It's old. You still want it?"

 _Probably no older than she was_. Sam nodded.

He grabbed a mug and held it under an access pipe that ran across the roof of his apartment. "See this line? Runs right to the main city boiler." He swiveled the faucet on and off with surprising deftness, reached behind him to add in the tea bag, and handed Samantha the result.

She'd never gotten faster service in her life. A faint smile couldn't help but creep across her lips.

Abbot grabbed a nearby metal bucket and turned it over as a makeshift stool. He sat down in front of her, and stared. Sam felt like he was looking straight into her soul.

"It's not every night you find someone in as bad a disrepair as you." He still wasn't smiling but, Sam supposed, maybe that just wasn't his thing. His eyes seemed to be smiling anyway.

"So, you wanna talk about what's going on?"


	40. Chapter 40

Word by word, line by line, Piper poured her heart and soul into her terminal.

Writing was so much more to her than simply a process of sharing information. She felt part of herself become more... complete, somehow, by writing it out, making it real. She didn't dare share any of this with Blue — what if she thought it was silly? What if she laughed? But here on her own, in the joy of the quiet, she was able to genuinely be herself.

It felt good to be working again.

She couldn't help but feel for the subject of her writing. That was nothing new — she always got emotional about her articles. What was new was the article's subject. She'd never gotten emotional about _Blue_ like this before.

There was so much she wanted to put into the article that wouldn't fit. How good of a person Blue had shown herself to be, how adventurous her spirit was starting to turn. How over scant weeks, she had already begun to come out of her shell, no longer lost in aimless worry over Shaun.

Shaun.

She doubled back through her writing. She had gotten so caught up in admiring the woman's words on how Diamond City inspired hope in her — _hope, after everything she'd gone through_ — that she hadn't included mention of Shaun yet at all. That wouldn't do.

Deleting words she'd written always hurt, but she knew it was for the best. Like a surgeon making a difficult call at the operating table. Except for the clinical detachment part. She felt for her writing far too deeply.

She popped the cap off another Nuka-Cola. She'd had to resist the urge to smoke multiple times that night, but the soda did its job of keeping her brain distracted. "Alright, where were we?" She whispered to herself. _Shaun, right_.

It took all of one sentence to shift the article to the subject of Samantha's child. This was part of what it meant to help people too, using her power of the press to recruit the help of others. All of Diamond City would be on the lookout for him, once this issue hit the stands.

The article was definitely beginning to coalesce. She couldn't help but smile at herself as she realized it. The joy of creating something left an uplifting brightness in her. Even if her medium was merely the written word, nothing compared. These paragraphs were hers.

A yawn snuck its way out of her. She was more tired than she thought. Just one more quote, she thought to herself. "Just one more quote..."

She found Blue's two direct quotes fascinating, in how they seemed to contradict each other. On the one hand, she felt hope from seeing the world rebuild. On the other hand, she was out for destruction and revenge. There was something to the woman she still could not yet understand.

She considered adding a paragraph discussing this, but decided against it. Injecting her personal thoughts on Blue any more than necessary would be unprofessional. She fidgeted slightly in her seat just from the thought.

"Well... I think we're done then" she thought aloud, stretching backwards in her seat. She pulled out some clean paper and prepared to start copying her work.

It felt like with every line, she had to work harder to keep her eyes open, her handwriting straight. "Come on," she told herself. "You can do this."

She had barely gotten to her second paragraph, when she had to stop and make a correction in her wording. She scanned the sentence, practically unable to believe her own mistake. She'd written in Blue's name as, well, _Blue_.

She was definitely getting attached to that nickname. But it had no place in the paper.

 _'So, as fortune often has it,'_ she rewrote, _'I crossed paths with Samantha Red.'_

A small chill ran up her back. She had practically never even thought Blue's full name to herself, much less put it into written word. It was sort of an inside joke between them. Anyone could know her as Samantha Red — and once this article went public, she supposed, everyone would.

But Blue? Blue was just between the two of them — Blue was hers, and hers alone. She felt something flutter deep inside her, and she fidgeted again in place.

She blinked, rubbed away sand from sleep she hadn't gotten yet, took another swig of soda. She hadn't called her Blue elsewhere in the article, had she? She took a quick scroll through the rest of the article and...

 _Damn it._ Blue was _everywhere_.

It only took a minute to fix each misuse of the nickname she had made. The corrections weren't tiring, just... embarrassing. She should have been better than that. Blue deserved better.

She got back to hand-copying. This was the mindless stage. Her thoughts could afford to wander.

Blue definitely deserved better. Piper could do better for her, could do more. _The parent, searching for the missing child_... She couldn't imagine the extent of her pain. Especially as such a newcomer to the Commonwealth, how could she even know where to start?

Then a terrible thought fell into Piper's head. Blue had no idea where to start searching for her son. But Piper was a _journalist_. At the very least, she could ask around, gather information, search for leads.

Her eyes closed almost without her noticing, pen slipping through her fingers. She shook herself awake. At least she hadn't accidentally scrawled on the page while half-asleep.

She was definitely getting too tired to do this though. Reluctantly, she accepted that her work would have to wait until the morning. She reached to shut off the terminal, and then her desk light. Darkness always spooked her a little more than she wanted to admit.

Stepping lightly, hoping not to trip over anything, Piper climbed into bed. She fell asleep thinking hopeful thoughts for Blue.


	41. Chapter 41

Abbot idly played with the hard hat in his hands. His eyes looked past Samantha, as though some insight lay hidden in the distance, beyond the confines of these metal walls.

"Nightmares... That's some hard work there. Afraid I can't do much to fix that kind of problem."

Sam, for her part, finished off the last of her tea. It tasted largely of rust, but she was in no position to complain or judge. "Honestly, Abbot? I'm just glad, honored actually, that you took me in like this."

He waved a hand. "Pah, it's nothing! Do this all the time."

Their eyes met. "Well..." he said, "I mean, from time to time. You stick around one place as long as I have, and you get good at knowing what needs done to keep it working right. And you ain't working right."

Sam briefly rolled her eyes. _"Thanks."_

He either didn't catch her sarcasm, or just ignored it. "You'll get there, though. We all do. I've seen plenty of folks come and go before you stumbled in. I've seen the good this city does for people."

He set the hardhat down and leaned forward. "That reporter friend of yours, for instance."

Sam almost choked on her final sip of tea. "You knew Piper when she first got here?"

He nodded slowly and sagely. "Most folks do, probably. Heck, she ain't that old! No older than you, I'd reckon, eh?"

She smiled into her tea. They did seem about the same age.

Abbot took a second to cough. "Yeah, I remember when she blew in, though. Practically a kid, when it all happened."

He shook his head, "Terrible, what happened to her dad. You hear about that?"

Sam nodded gravely.

"She was quiet back then. Took work anywhere she could find it. And she worked _hard_. All just to keep her and that sweet girl Nat alive."

The image of a young Piper doing meager odd jobs left Sam frowning in sympathy. Piper had been through so much. So much more than Sam could ever wrap her head around.

"Lucky for her though, that McDonough punk wasn't in charge, back then. Old mayor _loved_ her pitch for a city newspaper. Everything changed for her after that."

He kicked back and nodded at Sam, as though in agreement with his own words.

"She's always got something doing, nowadays. Never quiet, never still. But there's more to her than chit-chat."

His eyes were searching her again. "Took work for her to find her way. It ain't easy, figurin' out who and what you are. But we can do it. That's what matters."

Sam stared down at her empty mug. He was right — she had no idea who she was anymore. Her job, her husband, her life, they had all been taken from her. She was nothing. Then again, she figured, maybe that just meant she could become whatever she wanted.

She looked back up, smiling. "What else can you tell me about Piper?"

* * *

By the time Sam stepped outside, the sun was up, and she could hear noises coming from the center of town. How many hours had they been in there, talking?

She made a small mental note to herself — try to have another heart to heart like that with Piper, sometime. She felt a butterfly or two inside her just as the thought.

Abbot stuck his head out the door briefly, too. "Lovely day," he said. "Don't mind if I go sleep it off."

Sam turned back to him, laughing. "Thank you Abbot. You clearly care so much. It's... really appreciated."

"Yeah yeah," he gruffly responded. "Let me know if you ever need another talk." And with that, he shut the door.

Sam considered paying a visit to Piper that very moment, or at least sometime that morning. But hesitation got the better of her again. I'll give her another day with Nat, she told herself. Let her focus on the paper for a change.

Her eyes still stung from halfway crying, anyhow. Piper didn't need to see her in that kind of state. It would probably only worry her unnecessarily.

She decided to go see what was up in the center of town. She made her way around the circle, starting from the left. _No, not looking for a haircut, thanks_. She had left her caps back at the dugout, so she refrained from wandering into Fallon's Basement, though the idea of getting new clothes definitely appealed to her. Moe's Swatters, she already knew — and largely wished she didn't. She kept going when—

"Hey! You're that new girl, right?"

Sam stopped mid-step. She had practically passed the weapons stand by. "New girl?"

The man smirked. "Word kind of travels fast in Diamond City. What can I say?" He offered his hand. "Name's Arturo Rodriguez."

"Samantha Red." She shook his hand gladly. "So you're the armorer in town, huh?"

"Armor, weapons, modifications," he shrugged his shoulders. "Really, the best work, people do themselves. I'm just here to make sure you have what you need."

She liked the cloth this man seemed to be cut from. Not forcing anything on her, more interested in conversation than transaction.

"So tell me," she said, leaning in, one arm resting on the counter. "What would one need, if they were looking to repair some old leather armor they'd come into possession of?"

Arturo raised an eyebrow. "Well, most of the raw materials are for sale right here. Extra pieces to patch up any holes, metal studs, oil to lacquer it, or maybe you'd looking to make these pieces more lightweight?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand, interrupting. "Tell you what. Why don't you go gather up this gear of yours, and I'll pull out some tools and supplies. We've got a workbench right here, and I'll gladly step you through the process."

Sam nodded back, and headed for the Dugout, smiling.

She hadn't gotten crafty in a long time.


	42. Chapter 42

Piper woke up thinking of Blue just as she had fallen asleep thinking of her. She didn't recall seeing the woman in her dreams though. She was almost disappointed.

Overriding anything else she might have felt though, she was excited to find herself feeling refreshed and energized, ready to get back to work. She slipped back into her desk seat, booted up her terminal, and pounded out the remaining paragraphs of the new article.

She had come up with a name for the article overnight as well. 'View from the Vault' she penned in big, bold letters.

She shut her terminal back down and made her way downstairs excitedly. There was a time to be nimble, and this was no longer it. She could hear Nat stirring in the other room. Piper walked right up to the cinderblock wall, and knocked.

"Hrfzm?" Nat mumbled incoherently. Piper took eye contact as all the invitation she needed, mindfully avoiding the toys her sister had left strewn everywhere.

"Morning sleepyhead!" she chimed, beaming. "Take a look at what I've got!"

Nat leaned up a little and examined the article's cover page through squinted eyes. Piper knew to simply wait.

It took a little longer than usual, but her sister's response finally engaged, and went like clockwork. Her squinted, dubious glare burst open into wide-eyed excitement. Her tired lean gave way to sitting bolt upright. She gasped and grabbed the master copy out of Piper's hands.

"Sis! You've _written it?!"_

Piper practically laughed from joy. The way Nat got so excited by her new articles, every single time, never ceased to leave her feeling elated. There were few other feelings in the world that made her smile so genuinely, or so innocently.

She nodded with vehemence and pride. Nat nodded back approvingly, then buried herself in giving the article a read-through of her own. Her face was still for a few minutes as she read, then she smiled and handed the papers back.

"Yep," she said, "that's Lady alright."

Piper stood up rolling her eyes. "She has a _name_ , you know."

Nat smirked back. "Yeah, I know. I've heard _you_ use it _all the time_ around her."

A moment's pause. Piper unconsciously bit her lower lip in thought. She felt just the slightest bit warmer.

"It's different," she flatly countered. She also took deliberate strides out of the room before Nat could argue back.

"So uh, anyway, sis..." she paused for a moment, to see if Nat had anything to interrupt her with, then continued. "I was, uh, I was thinking of going out again for a day or two."

She grabbed their coffee pot and went to fill it up with water. She walked over to turn on their hot plate, too.

"Yeah?" she heard Nat call out from her room. "Going out again with _Blue_ again?"

Piper practically poured the coffee water out over the hot plate on accident. There was that sudden wave of warmth again.

"So what if I were?" she stammered. "It's smart to take company with you on the road! But as it happens, no, I was planning on going by myself this time." There was no way she was bringing Blue along on this adventure. The woman needed rest, time to recover from Concord. The last thing Piper wanted to put her through was a long-shot gamble at chasing down her son.

"Why not?" Nat responded, poking out of her room, still only halfway dressed. "Lady's good company, you just said so yourself. And I know you like her."

Piper slammed the coffee pot down. "I do not!"

Nat leaned forward slightly and raised an arm. "Uh, _yeah_ , you do? Like as a friend?" She rolled her eyes. "God Piper, no need to get _defensive_ over everything."

The reporter straightened up and took a deep breath. "Can we, uh, c- can we change the subject?"

Her sister laughed. "Sure, sis. You want me to run the press again?"

Piper smiled back, relieved. "Sure do, if you feel up to the job."

Nat crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Piper, who do you think you're talking to?"

She laughed in response, and turned to pack her things. Nat went back into her room to finish getting changed.

It didn't take a whole lot — she expected to be gone for a night at most, and traveling light would help her get back sooner anyway. This wasn't a major expedition, just a trip around town. She made sure, though, to pack herself an extra notebook.

"Sis!" Nat suddenly called out. "What about the motor?"

Piper blinked. "What about it?"

"What if it breaks? It barely got the last article out!"

Piper sighed. Not this again. "Then go get someone to fix it. You know where we keep the spare caps stored."

She paused for a moment, then added "I'd try Abbot first, if you need a repair job."

The girl stuck her head out from her room. "Old Man Abbot? But... he's so scary!"

Piper was taken aback. Abbot was one of the sweetest men she knew. Of course, that wasn't necessarily saying much. By and large, Piper had always hated boys.

"Fine, then... uh, go ask Arturo. He knows his way around schematics."

"Mr. Rodriguez?!" Nat nodded hard and gave a clear thumbs up, then disappeared behind her wall again.

Piper still had her hopes for the motor's lifespan, but her sister was right to be concerned. And it never hurt to have a backup plan, just in case things did go wrong.

She wondered if Blue had a technical mind. She'd had the sense to bring them their new backup motor, at any rate. Maybe she could help. She considered suggesting it to Nat, but didn't feel like getting teased all over again.

She put on her pack and walked up to Nat's room again. "Alright sweets, I'm out. You gonna be okay?"

Nat ran up and gave Piper a hug. "So long as you come back."


	43. Chapter 43

"Ah, my loyal customer! Welcome back!"

Samantha chuckled as she walked into the Dugout's main room. She could afford a few minutes to stop and chat.

She didn't take a seat, but did lean her elbows against the bar. "And how are you today, Vadim?"

"Never better!" he cheerily boasted back. "I have just gotten radio to work again. You think Diamond City Radio is bad? Try listening to nothing instead. Nothing but my brother's tireless complaints. Business... pah!"

Vadim poured himself a drink and looked her up and down. "What about you, my friend? Are you okay?"

Sam shrugged. "I've been better." A moment's contemplation. "...But I've also been much, much worse."

The bartender took a shot, and nodded back in understanding. "Come closer, I have suggestion for you." Sam leaned nominally closer to the man, and he continued.

"When I feel down, do you know what is simplest solution to improve my mood?"

She rolled her eyes. "You have a drink?"

Vadim stepped back in astonishment. "No! Drinking is for work hours. Business is business, right brother?"

Sam looked to her left, tracing the man's line of sight. Yefim was leaning against a nearby wall, face in his palm. "Don't bring me into your nonsense, Vadim."

She looked back to the bartender, who shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in. "Anyway, no, drink is for business. So what do I do? I take break from work! I do something to make me happy. You understand, yes?"

"Better than you'd think," she answered. "I was about to go something like that myself."

The man slammed his hand into the bar. "Look at me, holding you back! Go away! Enjoy!"

She couldn't help but laugh at his quirky honesty as she headed back to her room.

Samantha didn't have much to her name in the way of worldly possessions. At least that made it easy to pack everything. Before stepping back outside, her eyes flitted back to the bed. A shiver ran through her, but a comforting warmth returned soon after. The sensation passed.

The nightmare couldn't touch her anymore.

* * *

She was back at the workbench, and Arturo had a joyful expression on his face. Sam was ready and excited to learn.

"Crafting weapons and armor is an art," he opened, "You cannot just stick some parts together and expect it all to work."

She raised an eyebrow. He sighed.

"Okay, maybe you can. But it's so much less exciting that way. All of my happiest clients say they feel connected to their gear. Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "Back in my old profession, I had to craft paragraphs and arguments. Believing what you said and wrote was never essential, but it almost always helped. I think I see the similarities."

Arturo chuckled slightly. "Crafting paragraphs, huh? You sound like our resident reporter. Anyway, I think the best way to learn is with your sense. Try what makes sense. Go on, these are all scraps anyway!"

He stepped away from the workbench, and Sam stepped forward to take his place. She looked at the shinguards she'd gotten, and the leather scraps he'd laid out. "I guess... I could try sewing some extra leather on? Make it thicker? Tougher?"

Arturo nodded approvingly. "Why not! You have nothing to lose, right?"

Sam nodded back, and started to pump the sewing machine with her foot. She had never been a particularly proficient housewife, but mending clothes was nothing new to her. She totally had this.

Arturo gave her advice as she went — nothing overwhelming, and certainly nothing unwelcome. Every now and then, a customer would come by, and he would take a break from watching her work. It took about an hour for her to finish making the improvements to each leg.

The end result was a little messy, but she didn't mind. The next time he wasn't busy, she walked up to the storefront to show him what she'd done.

"It's a simple mod," he said. "But you've applied it well. These should serve you well in a fight."

Samantha hadn't felt genuinely proud of herself in a long time. There was something unexpectedly satisfying, she found, in working with her hands.

"You know," she said, "there's something else you might be able to help with." She crouched down and reached into her pack, carefully withdrawing one of the Molotovs she'd found in Concord.

Arturo nodded before she could even say a word. "Cocktails like that can be a little tricky to balance right. You could always try to make them yourself, if you want. Plenty of chemistry tools over by the surgery."

Sam shuddered and shook her head. Hey Doc Sun, mind if I use some medical supplies to make grenades? No. She was not in the mood to have that conversation.

The weapon vendor shrugged. "I could mix you some on my own, then. I'll supply the ingredients too. If you have caps to cover the cost? Oil isn't cheap, I'm afraid."

Sam nodded understandingly. This man deserved her business. She pulled out a tin box full of caps and handed it over for him to look through.

He took more than half. "This much for a set?"

Sam winced. She was poor enough already, by this new world's standards. But she accepted that business was a necessity — she couldn't just make everything herself. She nodded grimly, and he handed her back what few caps remained.

"They'll need to sit overnight, if you really want me to be sure they're made right. Check in with me tomorrow!"

His enthusiasm was clear. Sam would have been excited too, if she'd just gotten herself a commission.

"Thanks Arturo. For all of this really." They exchanged smiles, and shook hands again.

Sam slung her pack over her shoulder — a little lighter this time, but she would manage. She'd survived on no caps in the past.

She headed back to the Dugout. Maybe they'd let her open up a tab.


	44. Chapter 44

Her walking intensified in pace and purpose as she went. It was like she could practically feel the pressure of time. With every day that they had spent goofing off on other adventures through the Commonwealth, Blue's son had drifted farther from their reach.

Piper was determined to do better by her friend. Maybe a bit excited, too. It had been a while since she'd done any real and proper snooping. This would be just like her training days all over again.

She paused in front of the town gate — patchwork walls a big red metal door. Neon signs and wanted posters coated the exterior.

 _Start at the bottom, I suppose_.

No one paid any particular attention to her entrance. _That's Goodneighbor for you_.

She decided to start by asking random residents. With no clear lead on where to start, she had no reason _not_ to try anyone and everyone she could.

Of course, most folks just wanted to mind their own business. In a way, it was coldly comforting to be reminded — it wasn't _just_ the people of Diamond City who couldn't stand the way she pushed and pried.

A couple of scavengers were polite enough to let her finish a full sentence with them, and even dot it with a question mark. But none of them had heard anything about a missing kid, and shrugged apologetically.

Piper thanked them for their time, and decided to try one of the town guards next.

"Excuse me, I'm—"

"Piper Wright!" his voice was raspy and guttural, like all poor ghouls. "The papergirl from Diamond City, yeah? Huge fan of your work. Welcome to Goodneighbor!"

She stammered and blushed. "Oh, wow, th- thank you!" She furrowed her eyebrows a little. "You know I've been here before, right?"

The ghoul shrugged back. "Never on my watch. Must've been off duty. Anyway, what can I do for ya?"

A wry, hopeful smile came over her. She put on her best sing-song voice. "Well, _as it happens_ , I'm chasing down a _story_ right now. Feel like _helping_ me out? I might even _quote you."_

His face lit up with a smile, a rare sight for any ghoul. She felt a little bad, playing him like this.

"Sure, doll! What's the story?"

"A _kidnapping."_ She waved her hands around for emphasis. "Of a _baby_. Name's Shaun. Year old. Maybe less."

The guard's smile faded away. "Damn. No news through here 'bout any kidnappings lately, 'specially not a tyke..."

Piper's hopefulness faded in turn. "Maybe you could ask around with the other guards at least?"

"Yeah, sure," the ghoul replied. "Real sorry, miss."

Another grungy voice called out from above them — "You're not sorry for anything! Trust me, that woman's a rabbit hole of questions. She's practically addicted to mystery!"

Piper scowled up at the spry, anarchic ghoul in charge. _You're one to talk about addiction_ , she thought. But wisdom won out over attitude, and she held her tongue.

"Mayor Hancock!" she called out with her best professional tone, "Would _you_ care to comment about this kidnapping?"

"Yeah, I'll comment," he barked back. "What _happens_ in Goodneighbor, _matters_ to Goodneighbor. No one else cares about us, so we look after our own! You come back with reports that a kid from our town's gone missing? Then we'll talk. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

He tipped his tricorner hat, and went back inside.

 _"Of the people, for the people."_ Piper muttered through gritted teeth. "More like nothing _but_ the people..."

She decided to try her luck at the Third Rail, heading in without a second glance at the well-intentioned guard.

As she made her way to the bar's ground floor, she could feel her annoyance at the mayor wash away. He was a punk, sure, but he was _nothing_ compared to McDonough.

What she wouldn't give for Diamond City's old mayor. For someone, _anyone_ , who had a sense of proper leadership.

She quietly asked around the bar as best she could, but most attendants just wanted to listen to Magnolia's singing — not that she could blame them. Even after buying a drink from Whitechapel Charlie, he didn't have anything to share. He did promise to stay alert for any news, though, and she believed him.

There was a back-room door left open, which she decided to investigate. Not much to see in it, save for one, curiously dressed young man.

"Yeah?" He snapped, "What do you want?"

Piper's eyebrows flared. "You greet everyone like that?"

"Everyone who looks like they're on the hunt for something," he retorted. "And you are clearly after something."

The reporter eyed him up and down, memory spinning at full-throttle, trying to figure who he was. She pieced together snippets of stories she'd overheard. His attitude fit. His clothes fit.

"You're that freelancer, who cut ties with the Gunners, aren't you?"

"Nicely done!" He clapped sarcastically. "You looking for company? It'll cost caps, but, uh... you, I'd make a discount for."

Piper might have been flattered, if he wasn't being such a _boy_.

"Actually, I'm looking for information. About a... kidnapping?"

The man's callous front shattered. "You're kidding!" His voice was suddenly a full tone higher, maybe more. "Dang, miss, I'm real sorry. Haven't heard anything myself. Good luck, though!"

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

Of course he knew nothing. _No one_ here knew _anything_. She sighed.

She wasn't searching in the right kinds of places. That much was clear to her now.

She left the mercenary to his business. If she wanted company on the road, she had Blue. Just the thought of her made her smile... but then also frown.

Piper was trying so hard to find anything that would help her. At least, she thought she was. But nothing was turning in her favor. She decided to buy another drink from Charlie before hitting the road. She thought back to her old mentor.

"Damnit Nicky," she muttered into her glass. "Maybe I _should_ have just asked you. I'm terrible at this."


	45. Chapter 45

"So there I was, suited up with full power armor and a minigun, and no idea how to use _any of it."_

Vadim boomed with hearty laughter. Sam couldn't help but laugh a little, too. It was relieving to talk about all this out loud, even in jest. Perhaps especially in jest.

"I think to myself, this can't get any worse! And as if on cue, a _Deathclaw_ comes out of the sewers!"

Vadim stared at her in disbelief. _"No._ You lie. You would be _dead."_

She shook her head. "Power armor, remember? The suit got _wrecked_. Piper was barely able to get it open from the outside."

The bartender ducked down behind the bar for a moment, then stood back up, bottle in hand.

"We _must_ share drink for this. On the house. You have no choice."

Sam didn't like being told she had to do anything. But she appreciated his sentiment, in spite of his words.

"I guess I don't!" she joked back sarcastically.

He poured two shot glasses full of... something. Sam didn't mind a stiff drink now and then, but she'd always been terrible at telling different kinds of booze apart.

They were just about to reach for their shots when a voice came from behind. "'Scuse me, but did I just overhear someone say they took down a Deathclaw?"

The inquiring voice belonged to a man — dark skinned, clean-cut, armored in leather from top to bottom. He raised his hands, "Sorry if I'm interrupting something, I just love a good fight story."

Vadim pulled out a third glass. "Always better with your company, Hawthorne!"

The man laid a handful of caps on the counter without batting an eye. Sam practically cringed at the thought of that much currency. Meanwhile here she was, so poor she didn't even know if it was worth paying for another night's rent at the Inn.

 _This must be something fancy_ , she thought, looking at the shot Vadim had poured her. He made a short, endearing toast to victory against the dangers of the Commonwealth, and they all drank.

She ended up choking on her liquor halfway through. The leather-clad man laughed. "Gotta be strong to handle this stuff, right?"

She grimaced. "I wouldn't know." Sam stared down into the remnants of her shot, then back up at the man.

 _"Hawthorne,_ huh?" she asked. "That an old family name?"

The three of them conversed for a while, exchanging stories and general small talk. Sam admitted to herself — she had missed this. There was something uniquely valuable to this kind of lighthearted social interaction. It filled a void that deeper friendship couldn't.

Not that there was anything wrong with being just in Piper's company. _Heck_ , she realized, she _still_ would take a quiet night at Publick Occurrences over this in a heartbeat.

Somewhere during the conversation — Sam was pleasantly not paying attention to the time — Vadim reached over and turned the dial on the bar's radio, shutting the system off.

"Ugh, that Travis!" He groaned. "His music is great, but his voice... why does he even bother trying to speak?!"

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Can't say I was paying attention."

Hawthorne shook his head. "You're not missing much. Vadim's right, Travis has good DJ sense, but he's a right mess when it comes to narrating between tracks. Guess we need to have _some_ news on the air, though."

With the radio's background noise gone, though, all the other sounds of the Dugout suddenly became more clear to her. The clinking of glass. Snippets of chatter from other tables. The sound of doors opening and closing.

She looked around, thinking back to her words from Piper's interview. Seeing people rebuild like this — it gave her hope. She sipped the last of her drink, taking her time with it, so to avoid another coughing fit. Continuing to look around, her eyes came to rest on someone unexpected.

Natalie Wright. Standing stock still in the hallway. Wide-eyed, mouth half open, staring at _everthing_.

Sam dropped her glass off on the counter, and got up with barely a "pardon me" in afterthought. She walked right over to the little girl, and squatted down.

"Nat?"

The girl's eyes came back into focus, as though returning from a trance. "Lady! I found you!"

Sam blinked. "You were looking for me?"

The child nodded back. "I was _going_ to go looking for Mr. Rodriguez, but _Nina_ said that he was busy doing _other_ work tonight, so I went back and tried to do it _myself_ , but _nothing_ would work! So I thought about going to see what Old Man _Abbot_ had to say, but I couldn't find him _anywhere_ , not that I mind, he can be _scary_ when he's in the wrong mood, Lady. So then I thought maybe I could try to find _you_. Sis said something once about how you were living _here_ , but I wa—"

"Nat," Sam interrupted. "Breathe."

She nodded, and followed the woman's orders. Her breaths were small, but slow. "Y'know, I've _never_ been in here before. Piper says bars are for _adults."_

"Well, she isn't wrong. But hey, I'm here. So what's all this about?"

Nat made a thin attempt at veiling her worry with a smile. "Oh _Lady_ , could you just come back to the office with me? _Please?"_

Samantha was taken aback. Nat personally sought _her_ help? Or at least, her company? Had something bad happened? And where was Piper? Had she gone out without Sam noticing?

"Of course, Nat," she said, giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I'll come over right now."

She raised her voice a little at the end, and stood up as she did so. Vadim and Hawthorne had both been watching her, and nodded understandingly. She smiled back, and waved, hoping to convey her thanks.

Nat practically ran down the hallway and back outside. Sam followed suit, slightly worried, but mostly curious to see what was on the young girl's mind.


	46. Chapter 46

Even the sight of Bunker Hill was enough to bring back memories.

She'd forgotten what it was like to travel on her own. She missed her friend. The distraction that she would have offered. Perhaps it would have helped suppress the flashbacks from her youth.

"Blue..." Her voice was like a tired child's. "I could really use your company right now."

The wave of unwelcome nostalgia passed. She forced herself up the steps and towards the town. A guard's voice called out, distantly familiar.

"You there! Caravan, or raider?"

"Caravan!" Piper yelled back instinctively, before realizing her mistake. "No, wait, what I meant was—!"

But the gatekeeper lowered her weapon, even before she had explained herself. "Piper?"

She climbed the remaining steps, her head cycling through names. _All the memories you have of this place, and you can't remember who this woman is?_

Whoever this woman was, she was smiling. "Wow, that really _is_ you, isn't it? The little orphan girl, back to pay her respects. Still livin' behind that Wall of yours?"

She furrowed her eyes. "Yeah, and I'm still as much an orphan now as ever, thanks."

"Oh, ease up!" the guard snapped back. "Least you've still got yourself. And your sister too, right? How is that little girl?"

 _Eye-roll_. "Not so little anymore. Not a day goes by she isn't getting into trouble."

"And you aren't?"

She laughed a bit. "Oh don't worry, I am too. Why, just last week, the mayor tried to kick me out, for _writing an article_ about him!"

"Ha! Ain't that always the way of it. City-livin' folk just ain't cut out for the truth like we are."

That made Piper laugh in full. There was a unique brand of brutal honesty to caravan workers. Tough-love crassness seemed to come with the job description. In a way, she had missed it.

In another way, she was glad to have it gone from her life. And especially gone from Nat's.

The two women made small talk for a few more minutes. Piper explained her cause for coming, and got a few suggestions on who to check in with. She'd had a mental list of names before she'd even arrived, but Piper thanked her nonetheless.

Not even ten steps in, a young girl came running up to her — no older than Nat, and instantly recognizable. "Hi! I'm Meg!" she boldly exclaimed.

"Hey Meg. How's the tour business?"

The girl's hopeful smile instantly faded. "Oh, you already— wait, you're _Nat's_ sister!"

"Sure am!" Piper crouched down so they could see eye to eye. "You and your mom doing ok?"

Meg nodded back. "Yeah, business is great. Everyone just _loves_ getting hurt out there. And mom's a lot better than she used to be. _Hey_ , did Nat come _with_ you?"

She shook her head. Meg sighed. "Bring that girl _back_ with you sometime! I _miss_ her!"

Piper frowned in earnest apology. "Sorry Meg, I really am! We'll visit sometime, together. _Promise."_

The little girl was springy with excitement. "Yeah! _That's_ the grownup-girl I remember. You've _always_ got my back, Miss Piper! You're the best!"

And she darted off before the reporter could even manage a word. She tried to sigh — she'd meant to ask if the girl had heard any kidnapping rumors lately — but what came out instead was heartfelt laughter.

Of all the memories from her Bunker Hill days, only the ones involving Meg were actually pleasant. _God_ , the kinds of trouble they'd all gotten into together. She missed getting into mischief like that.

She stood back up, surprised to find that she was smiling. But she had come here on official business. Her friend had a child missing, and she was going to do her best to find them.

Even if her best was pretty bad.

She tried the marketplace first. No one had heard anything, not even Stockton, which left Piper more than a bit surprised. Wasn't he at the center of _everything?_

She tried the bar, next. But the Savoldis were busy arguing. About the Railroad, of all things.

"Hey!" She chimed in — her tone sarcastic, and a little bit annoyed. "You wanna free people? I'm looking for someone _right now!"_

Father and son stopped bickering. There was only one other customer at the bar — all three men turned and looked at her at once. Piper suddenly felt very warm.

"That is, uh... I'm looking for a boy," she stammered. "A baby boy. Kidnapped, apparently."

The patron next to her raised an eyebrow. "This baby boy have a name, sweetheart?"

"Hey, I'm _no one's_ sweetheart" Piper curtly answered. "But, yes... his name's Shaun."

She raised an eyebrow back at the man. What kind of weirdo wore sunglasses after sunset?

"Gee, Piper," the bartender interrupted. "We've gotten all kinds of news comin' through here lately. And not heard nothin' about a stolen child." He pulled out a few bottles and mixed her up a drink. "Here, on the house, for haulin' yourself all the way out here. We've missed ya, kid."

Her bitterness dissolved again beneath the father's kindness. It meant a lot to hear that people still remembered her. And liked her even, apparently. Though that latter bit was still hard to believe.

"You see, pops?" Joe's son remarked. "This is why we gotta go and find the Railroad! They're professionals at finding folks who can't be found."

Piper laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that." She swirled her drink to help the ice cubes melt a little. "They're also professionals at not being found themselves. You find the Railroad, and it'll be the story of our _lifetime."_

The man in sunglasses returned to his drink, and father and son returned to arguing. Piper sighed. _Another fruitless adventure._

She'd have to stay the night, she realized. There was no way she'd get back before dark. She sighed again. Home felt so close — a couple hours' walk, at most — and yet so very far.

She couldn't wait to be back with Nat and Blue.


	47. Chapter 47

Sam was bemused, to say the least. The way Nat held her hand and pulling her along, it felt like the girl was almost _worried_ about her. Setting foot inside the office of Publick Occurrences, she looked around, trying to assess. Nothing immediately looked wrong.

"So... why am I here, again?"

"Didn't I _tell_ you, Lady?" Nat's impatience was endearing. "The _motor_ broke! Sis will _kill_ me if I don't get the next issue published!"

Sam tilted her head. _"That_ , I highly doubt. But, the motor you say? To the printing press?"

"Mhm!" The way she nodded with a distraught frown on her face, Sam could feel her heart already melting.

"Hey, it's gonna be aright," she promised, unsure if she'd be able to make good on her own words. "We'll _make it_ be alright."

Nat's eyes practically sparkled. "So you _can_ fix it?!"

Sam laughed. "I have no idea, Nat. But I'll try!"

They sat down in front of the press together, side by side. Sam pulled the old motor out — it was heavy, even heavier than the one she'd brought down for them from Sanctuary.

Sam turned the device over a few times, examining it as best she could. Nat watched her actions with laser acuity.

"Lady? How did people even _make_ things like motors? I mean, back then, in the _past."_

She looked sideways at her from her work. It was a good question. "Well... a motor like this? I guess it would have been made in a factory. A, uh... a bigger machine, to make the smaller one. And they would have designed the whole thing using a computer program. Like on a terminal."

Nat blinked. "So wait, you needed _two other_ machines to make _this one?_ Did you need two more to make each of _those?"_

Sam laughed. "Probably. Maybe more."

"But _wait_ , no... wait, _stop."_ Sam stopped, and turned to look at Nat in full. The girl was literally tugging on her own hair. "But, if those machines... and then _those_ machines... Lady, _how did anything get started?!"_

Samantha continued laughing. "That's a great question, Nat. We asked the same thing back then, too."

She turned back to her work. The motor looked fine on the outside, which meant the problem lay buried somewhere in its internal mechanisms. She'd been afraid of that from the moment Nat described the situation. She had no idea how motor systems truly worked. This was going to be a guessing game for the ages.

Nat started talking again. "Whoah, you mean people didn't _know everything_ in your time?"

"Nope!" Sam didn't look up, she was too busy searching for an access panel to tinker with the motor's insides. "In a way, I'd say we knew even less then than we do now."

She could hear the confusion in the young girl's silence.

"Sure, we had more information, then. Better systems. Broader knowledge. But we ignored it. The world was confident back then. _Too_ confident." She leaned back, unwittingly forgetting about the motor and losing herself in thought. "We didn't look where we were going. Our hubris was our downfall."

Silence continued to hang throughout the office. Samantha drifted through memory and time, unsure what it was she was even thinking of, or when she was even thinking of it.

"Miss Red?"

The child's use of her true name brought reality crashing back to the forefront. Sam looked over at the girl, quietly astonished.

"You're... you're really _from_ then, aren't you? You're _really_ two hundred years old, like big sis says."

She nodded, slowly, gravely.

"I couldn't believe it, at first." Nat bowed her head a little, but her eyes remained in contract with Samantha's. "I thought it was a joke, a _stunt_ you pulled to get attention. I thought it was funny, but I didn't think it could be _real."_

Sam smiled sympathetically. "Can you be sure now? That I'm not making it up?"

Nat frowned back. "Well, n- no? But... I just... everyone thinks things were so _great_ before the War. Sis especially, but I mean _everyone_ , Lady, at least a little bit. We _all_ wish we could see it. But not you. You sound _glad_ it's gone."

It was all that Sam could do to restrain herself from crying on the spot. She felt exposed and hollow and tired all at once. "So not liking the past means I'm from it, huh?"

"It makes you _different_ , Lady!" Nat suddenly looked very cross. "Diamond City isn't _nice_ to _different_ people. Like sis and I! We're not from here, did you know that?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Piper told me. About the caravans..." she weighed her next words cautiously. "About your dad."

The girl's frown turned even worse. "I barely remember him. But I _know_ he was different too. Sis says being different is a good thing. She says the world _needs_ different people, to keep us from making the same old big _mistakes."_

Sam could see where Nat's thoughts were headed, and she didn't like it. She reached out, taking her by the shoulder.

A single "hey" was all she had to say, before Nat slid over, curling up into her side. Sam wrapped her arm around the young girl as though on instinct. Nat wasn't crying, but it was clear she needed comfort.

It came so naturally to Sam, she nearly cried herself. She couldn't help but think of Shaun. Of all the love she'd never get to give him. Of all the mother's instincts she no longer had a use for. At least she could bring them out a little, during times like these.

"Hey, let's not worry about it anymore, okay?" She could feel the girl's head nodding.

"Come on, I'll go start water to make us tea. And you go grab any tools you and your sister have. We'll work on this motor together, okay?"

Nat looked up. "I don't like tea. Can you make _coffee_ instead, Lady?"

Samantha giggled. "Sure, Nat. Sure."


	48. Chapter 48

It was still mid-morning. Piper had made good time on her return trip home. But her mind was wandering, and not in the good way.

Somewhere between sniffing out a story and investigating a lead, all of Piper's skills had fallen flat. She didn't understand it. She had uncovered so many secrets in her time. But this? This missing boy? She couldn't get _anything_. Not even a trace of where to start.

The sun was bright and warm. She pulled her press cap down a little extra, still glum from her failure. Blurring through the motions, she opened the door to her office, and stepped inside.

"Nat, I'm home!" she called, slipping off her trench coat and tossing it aside. No immediate reply came. In fact, the only sound she heard was a faint metallic whine, like a hinge swiveling back and forth. She lifted her cap back up again, allowing her to actually see.

The front door had been unlocked, so Nat couldn't be far. The whole house vaguely smelled of coffee, and there were tools strewn everywhere across the floor.

What the _hell_ had Nat been up to?

Her answer came, as she traced the metallic squeaking to the office's other ground-level door. The small, repeated squeaking noises suddenly collapsed into a single, resonating _"click!"_

The door swung open to reveal her sister on the other side. She was crouched down, and _Blue_ was sitting next to her.

"SIS!" Nat leapt up and ran to Piper's side. "I _thought_ I heard you coming in! Sis, didn't I _try_ to warn you about that motor? Well, it _broke_ while you were out. And _no one_ was around to fix it, so..."

"Whoa, hey, easy there Nat. What's going—?"

But the girl interrupted back. "No, sis, you've _got_ to hear this. So you said find _anyone_ who could help, right? So I went and found _Lady!_ She's _awesome_ , Piper! _She fixed it!_ But, oh my god, it took us _hours!_ So, Lady, she made _coffee_. I know _you_ never let me have coffee, but _she_ didn't mind me having some! But then we were _too excited_ to go to bed. So we stayed up _all night!_ And _now_ Lady's teaching me how to _pick locks!"_

Piper stared in slack-jawed disbelief. "Blue?" Her eyebrows arched with curiosity. "Is this true?"

"Well, yeah..." The woman stood up slowly, one hand behind her head, her eyes trying to escape from under the reporter's stare. "But you really should switch to that backup motor I brought you, after this issue's published."

Piper facepalmed. "Good grief. The both of you!" She rolled her eyes. "Nat, I want you to clean up in here, okay?"

Nat hung her head, dragging out her answer like a funeral dirge. "Yes sis..."

She nodded firmly and turned back to Blue. "And _you..."_ But her sternness faded. She remembered what it was she wanted to speak with Blue about.

"Can I, uh... steal you for a talk? In private?"

* * *

They hadn't gotten far before sitting down — there was a park bench over by the center of town, and it was still too early for the marketplace to be full with its usual clamor.

Samantha fidgeted in place. "Piper, I'm sorry if I pushed the limits with Nat last night."

Piper looked over at her. "What? Oh, no, it's fine, that's not what this is about. I mean, I'd have done things differently if I were there, but I trust you with kids. You are a _mother_ after all, right?"

Blue shuddered at the word. "I would have been, anyway."

 _Real smooth, Piper_. But she had been down on herself enough already, as it was. She straightened up and gave her friend a pat on the shoulder.

"Come on, no use in talking like that. You still will be, Blue! Trust me, I've got a good feeling about it."

Blue's eyes glimmered with hope. They were gorgeous in the morning light, just like the sky — a little clouded but mostly blue, a fitting reflection of her nickname.

"Thanks." Her voice struck Piper by surprise, she'd been so lost in sudden admiration. "So what _is_ this all about, then?"

The reporter took a deep breath. "Actually, this is about your son also. It's why I was out of town yesterday. I wanted to see if I could dig up any leads on his... his kidnapping."

She had Blue's undivided attention, she could tell. "And?"

"And, it turns out finding a story without a place to start from is a whole lot harder than I expected." She could see her friend's expression drop. She felt her stomach drop in tandem. She wished so badly that she had found something better to give her. Anything, anything at all.

"But there's still hope, Blue," she continued. "There's a detective in town, Nick Valentine... he's one of the best. Best I've ever had the chance to know. If anyone can find your son, it's him."

Blue sat up at attention. "You mean here's here? Right now?!"

Piper nodded back excitedly. "Yeah! You, you wanna go see him?"

Blue laughed sarcastically. "Uh, yes? Please?"

Piper reached and took her friend by the hand. "His office is down a nearby alley, come on!"

And they were off. Piper led the way, excited to be able to actually share something good and helpful with her friend. She'd gone into the talk a little worried, worried that Blue would focus only on what Piper hadn't been able to turn up or accomplish for her.

Now, running down the streets of Diamond City together, she realized just how silly all that somberness had been. Blue wasn't like that. She never had been, even in the darkest moments they had shared together.

Piper had been worried over nothing. A weight lifted from her shoulders that she hadn't even known was there. Her hopeful, adventurous spirit returned. She was okay. They were okay.

They would find Shaun. Together. As a team.


	49. Chapter 49

Setting foot into the Valentine Detective Agency had been worrying, if only because Sam hadn't had any idea what to expect. Stepping back out was even worse, though in a completely different way.

Shaun felt more distant now than ever. Even more distant than he'd felt to her this morning, before Piper had brought the subject of him back to the forefront her mind. At least before then, she'd been starting to lose hope. There had been an unwelcome comfort in the numbness, but a comfort nonetheless.

But that sort of complacent apathy just wouldn't fly around her friend. Piper was too emotional, too _driven_. Sam just couldn't afford to be somber, not in the company of such pushy optimism. On the surface, it was a little tiring, but deep down, Samantha was more grateful for it than she knew how to put to words.

Still side by side, they stepped back out into the alley, and the rest of Diamond City with it. The Commonwealth felt like a _much_ bigger place, now that they were looking for someone lost in it. And goodness, the train station that the secretary had mentioned? That was a long ways out from here by _car_ , and it wasn't like there were many of those left in working order.

She sighed. Piper mirrored her. Sam was determined to break the silence before it had a chance to really form.

"Well, that went different than expected."

Piper said nothing back. She smiled, but only vaguely, and only for a moment.

Sam leaned her back against a corrugated wall, to gather up her thoughts and her emotions. Piper leaned her arm against the wall beside her, and stared down into the ground, seemingly lost in a similar kind of process.

"So," she said at long last. "Nick's gone missing. Your son's _still_ missing. And we've got to find the one if we want any hope to find the other." She looked up at Samantha. "I guess, no one ever promised us that any of this would be easy."

Sam took a step towards her friend. Piper didn't try to move away, so she moved in closer still. She reached over and patted her friend on the shoulder. Those small gestures of kindness were still a bit of a gamble to her — she couldn't tell for sure if they'd go over well or not.

Piper took the gesture with a smile. "Thanks, Blue."

She returned the smile, and nodded. "This detective, Valentine... he means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

Piper's gaze drifted, like she could see something Sam couldn't. A ghost of something come and gone, or perhaps a memory replaying in her head. She blinked out of it, and looked back up.

"You... feel like going for a walk while I answer that?"

* * *

Diamond City had a lot more roads and alleys than she'd imagined, from her first impression of the city. For being built entirely in the field of a baseball stadium, there was a _lot_ to it — more than she would have guessed achievable.

They walked together — first in momentary quiet, but it didn't take long for Piper to make the first move.

"I don't know how much you noticed, Blue, but... I was pretty upset with myself when I got back this morning. No matter what I'd tried out there, nothing had come up about a kidnapping. No leads. Nothing."

Samantha tripped over a bit of rubble as she listened. She was too busy looking at Piper, watching her as she pulled her words together. There was something truly charming to the way she thought out loud.

"I was looking forward to seeing Nick when I got back. I thought... maybe he'd be able to see the clues I hadn't, maybe he could answer the questions that I couldn't. He'd have helped you in a heartbeat, Blue, I know he would have. But really... really, I wanted to see him for my own sake, too."

They glanced at each other as they went. Piper continued to share her thoughts. "Nick was my mentor, back in the day. He took me in under his wing. Taught me how to find things out for a profession. Sure, I already had the dream of getting into journalism, but he showed me the _technique."_

Her eyes seemed to glaze over with memory. Their amber color glimmered in the morning sun.

"I really hope you get to meet him, Blue. And not just because of Shaun. He's a good man, a _great_ man. And he's... he's one of the only friends I've got."

She looked over with a smile. "You're gonna end up on that list too, if you're not careful."

Sam wasn't sure what to say, especially not in response to a compliment like that, at a time like this. "I... I know the feel, Piper." She thought about what else she could say, when suddenly she burst into a laugh. "Hey! Now we're _both_ looking for people dear to us!"

Piper let out a small snort of a laugh.

Sam leaned over without thinking and took the woman's hand. The gesture led them both to stop. Their eyes met again, and stayed.

"We'll find him, Piper," she reassured. "We'll find them both."

Samantha smiled, causing Piper to smile back in turn. "Thanks... I don't know why it helps so much to hear you say that, but it does."

For a moment, their mutual happiness became entwined — each one's hopeful expression bolstering the other's. The intimacy lasted for a whole three seconds, before they both snapped back to realize where they were.

They let go of each other's hands. Piper brushed her feet along the floor. Sam coughed and looked away. They went back to walking, Piper leading them out from the maze of city streets and back towards her office.

Sam had no idea what to expect on a trip into downtown Boston. They were definitely going to need some time to pack.


	50. Chapter 50

"Wait..." Nat cocked her head to one side. _"You're_ going _looking_ for Mr. _Valentine?_ But I thought _he_ was the one who went looking for _other_ people."

Piper shook her head and chuckled slightly. Her tone was quiet, perhaps a little grim. "Sure'd be nice if it worked that way, wouldn't it?" She stood up and paced around the room. Nervousness got the better of her while she waited. She lit up a cigarette on reflex. _Just this one,_ she told herself. She smoked it quickly, half-afraid that Blue would walk in on her momentary weakness.

Her sister didn't comment on it either way. She didn't even know Piper was _trying_ to quit. Instead, the girl's idle chatter continued to drift from topic to topic, eventually coming back to the matter at hand.

"So what are you _waiting_ on, sis? It's early, why not just..."

"Blue. I'm waiting on Blue, Nat."

"Wait, _Lady's_ going _with_ you?" The child sat upright. _"Sis,_ are you two going on another _adventure_ together?"

Piper took a deep breath through the cigarette, hoping it would help her worries fade away. She furrowed her eyebrows at Nat in disapproval.

"Nat, we don't... _adventures?_ Is that what you think we do out there?"

The little girl fidgeted in her seat on the couch. "I mean, that's what you make it _sound_ like. You never _used_ to be excited like this, going _out there_ all the time. Getting into _trouble."_

 _Trouble_. The word lodged itself in Piper's mind.

She tossed her cigarette into a nearby ashtray, and turned to face her sister — finger raised, as though to drive home a lesson. But her ire was interrupted as the door swung open, and her redhead friend stepped in.

"Lady!" Nat jumped up from her seat and waved to the woman excitedly, running over to offer her a hand. Blue had picked up some grenades from Commonwealth Weaponry, and Nat was _fascinated_ with them.

Piper couldn't help but smile, watching their personalities ricochet back and forth. The indulgence of a quick, hard smoke was _nothing_ compared to the joy of seeing friend and family happily interact. She knew the magic of the moment couldn't last, though — soon they would be on the road together, navigating the horrors of Boston's old downtown.

The entire process of getting packed had gone by like a blur. Her mind had insisted on vividly imagining how everything could go so wrong. It took all she had to focus on the present. Blue's company helped. There was something about the woman that really kept her grounded.

She tried her best to appreciate it while she could. To take a snapshot of how she felt right then, and preserve it in her memory. Sister and friend, lost in small talk. Piper quietly observing from the sidelines, admiring them both, each in their respective way. Natalie, for her joyful innocence, but also for her insight, and her care. Blue, for care of a different kind, for her hope, and her determination.

Where Piper herself fit into the imaginary portrait, she couldn't say for sure. But she knew she did. The three of them made such good pals. She hoped that the camaraderie they shared would never go away.

Nat's words were finally slowing down. Piper closed the gap between them. She hoped the smell of smoke on her had faded.

"Hey" was all she managed to begin with.

Blue smiled back immediately. "Hey! You packed? Ready for another adventure?"

Nat turned to Piper defiantly, hands on her hips, vindication written all across her face.

Piper rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm ready. _Been_ ready. Didn't take much work to re-pack from my trip around town yesterday." _Wow, had that really just been yesterday?_

Blue nodded in understanding. "Sorry for making you wait. I had Arturo give my gear a quick once-over. Said everything looks to be in good condition. So, you ready to get out of here?"

"You're starting to sound like me, Blue," she teased, grabbing her own pack and slinging it over her shoulder. She turned to Nat.

"You're master of the house 'til we get back, alright kiddo?"

Nat nodded with enthusiasm. "Take notes out there! We don't have _any_ articles lined up after this one sells out." Her eyes darted back and forth between both grown-ups. "And I've got a feeling, sis, this issue is _really_ going to sell out."

Piper smiled and gave the girl a quick hair-frizz before she could defend herself. She turned to Blue, who nodded sternly, and they both stepped out the door.

The sky was a bit more cloudy than it had been earlier. If anything, she welcomed cloud cover. The occasional reprieve from beating sunlight could be a welcome thing, after an hour or two of traveling. Piper knew first hand — one too many times, she'd been caught out in the wasteland heat. There were few things worse than being stranded in a miserable corner of the Commonwealth, knowing home was irrelevantly far away.

At least she wouldn't have to worry about that last part. Somehow, traveling with Blue made her feel less homesick than she'd used to, on her own. Nat was right — she _was_ taking to the road more often. She hoped her sister didn't actually mind.

 _This isn't for fun though_ , she told herself. Her oldest friend and greatest teacher was in danger. Not to mention, their best bet at a lead for reuniting Samantha with her son. Blue deserved that. She deserved to have a family of her own again.

She gave her pistol one last check, then holstered it. "You ready, Blue?"

Her friend looked to her and smiled. "With you at my back? Always."

The answer caught her off guard. She'd expected a simple _yes_ , or maybe just a nod. But _that?_ That nearly gave her goosebumps.

"Well!" she stammered back. "Al- alright, then. _Lead the way."_

One last exchange of heartfelt hope — and they were off to find Nick Valentine.


	51. Chapter 51

They walked. They talked. They watched the world go by.

 _Nick Valentine_. Samantha tossed the name around in her head. _Almost sounds like a hero from a comic book_. It also almost sounded vaguely familiar to her. Like a name you heard a single time in passing. Or a face in a dream, of someone you never remember meeting.

They smiled. They wandered. They waited for the storm to come.

Sam had a feeling, too strong to ignore, that they were walking right into a hornet's nest of harm. Sure, they had gotten through a couple of scrapes together. But a ragtag raiding party wasn't the same as an _entire gang_. The thought alone left her feeling scared.

The scenery wasn't helping either. It felt surreal to Sam, walking towards familiar old downtown. Everything was so similar, yet clearly different from her life before. More a likeness than a perfect copy. Her world reflected through a broken mirror.

Part of her couldn't tell which had suffered more from the destruction, the city or herself. A short, pitying laugh escaped her chest.

"You alright there?"

 _Not to mention Piper_. God, her voice was really starting to become a comfort — an central piece to Sam's impression of the Commonwealth. The new world wouldn't seem complete without that sassy, hopeful, diven reporter of a woman to comment on it as they went. She really hoped that Piper didn't mind how much time they spent together.

"Huh?" Sam tried to feign confusion, hoping maybe to avoid having to explain her self-deprecating laughter. But the determined look in her friend's green eyes cut right through her.

She hung her head. "Yeah, I'm- I'm fine." Coming face to face like this, with just how much had been lost... it pained her, hurt her from the inside out. Piper's presence really helped.

"Blue... We'll find them. We'll find Nick." There was that determination again, in her voice as much as in her stare. But then her words turned sympathetic in their tone. "And we'll find Shaun."

Samantha smiled as best she could. Piper was trying to get a read on her — and understandably — but she was off the mark. Thoughts of Shaun had fallen back into the realm of numbness.

"Thanks," she said with her best attempt at a smile, "but... that's not it."

"Oh? Then what is?" _Ever inquisitive._

"Do we have to talk about it?"

"N- no." Her eyes went wide and soft. "Sorry, Blue, yeah. We don't have to."

They walked in quiet for a while after that. Sam couldn't help but feel bad — usually, _she_ was the one to fight the awkward silences. But there were some things she still just couldn't talk about yet, not even around a friend like Piper.

It was part of their friendship, she told herself. They were friends, but friends respected limits. They didn't have to be open with each other about everything. Sam was pretty sure that's what she and Piper were, anyway. Friends. Traveling companions. Maybe confidants.

Nate had been a confidant, back in the day, back in the past. But he had also been away so often, and for so long. He had been a great person to banter back and forth with — a real interlocutor. He had impressed Sam from the start with his thoughtfulness, so uncommon amongst soldiers. Ironically, she had only ever noticed it because they'd had things to argue about, to disagree on. She and Piper, on the other hand, agreed on _nearly everything_.

"Your thoughts?"

She felt uneasy, just blurting out the question like she did. But Piper didn't seem to mind. She looked over and smiled with compassion, then looked up at the ruined skyline spread before them.

"Would've been nice to have seen all this in its prime."

She sighed longingly and shrugged.

For a second, Sam wanted to take her hand in sympathy. But the moment passed, and the feeling faded. "Hah, yeah," she echoed. "It sure was something, alright..."

She thought back to what everything had looked like then. She could still imagine all of it so vividly inside her mind. The world back then had been a terrible place — bloated, corrupt, drowning in its own aggrandizement. But it had been pretty, in a way.

Her mind drifted farther afield. She tried to imagine Piper living back them. She would have been such a great journalist. Boundless tools and resources available to her at a moment's notice — little things that out here, she'd had to scavenge for herself.

Sam looked over at the woman, sizing her up in a different way. She couldn't help but wonder — would Piper have still been as good a person in that time?

 _Obviously_.

Who could she kid? There was no controlling that spirit. Piper would've fought for the truth just as hard then, maybe _more_. And she probably would have gotten crushed underfoot just as hard then. Maybe more. She shuddered.

But the attitude on Piper's face left no doubt in her mind — she wouldn't have taken any of it lying down. Piper glanced back, catching Sam's eyes. They shared an encouraging smile, and continued walking. Downtown came gradually closer as they went.

 _She really cares_ , Samantha thought. _About Nick. About me_. She thought back to when she'd first stumbled out of the vault. How convinced she'd been, that all the beauty and compassion in the world had died. Piper proved that wrong.

"I ever tell you about some of the adventures Nick and I used to go on? Back before I started up the paper?"

Now Piper was the one to strike up conversation. Sam shook her head.

"Oh my god, they crazy stunts we pulled sometimes..." and there she was again, the rambling reporter, sharing stories as long as anyone would listen. Not that Sam objected. Piper was good at telling stories, and her voice was comforting as ever.

Samantha walked beside her friend and listened. It meant everything to have someone she could get lost with.


	52. Chapter 52

"...and so we _burst_ out through the ventilation shaft, Nick first, then me. And where had we ended up? _The mayor's office_. Can you _imagine_ his face?"

Piper was still talking about Nick. About the cases she had helped him with in her younger years, when she and Nat had first arrived in Diamond City. She hoped it was keeping Blue distracted. They were definitively downtown at this point, and she was _still_ unable to get a clear read on how her friend was taking it.

At the very least, conversation was a way for them to pass the time, and maybe savor the peace while it still lasted.

Sam laughed back — a pleasant and telling response. "This Nick sounds like even more of a character than _you_ , Piper! I look forward to meeting him."

"Blue, he's the _best."_ Piper opened her mouth to say more, but stopped short. Something had shifted in Blue's attitude. Her attention suddenly seemed distant, and her head was turned a little. Piper furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, trying to trace Blue's gaze when — _oh_.

The old library had just come into view.

Piper had always admired the building, in its architecture and in its principle. All that information and writing all in one place, open to the entire public! But she realized it probably wasn't like that for her friend. Blue knew what it had been like in the world before. Blue could see how much was lost, where she could only guess.

"What's it like inside?"

She grimaced. "The truth, Blue? Pretty bad." Piper thought back to prior trips she'd made inside, scavenging for supplies to keep the paper going. She could only imagine what it must have looked like in its heyday, but she knew a wreck when she saw one.

"I shouldn't be surprised." Sam clenched her fists, and hung her head, muttering quietly. _"Damn it."_

Piper felt her heart twist into a knot on Blue's behalf. Sorrow began to mingle with anxiety. She looked around — no one was visible, but she still couldn't help but feel exposed. It was impossible to tell if they were being watched.

She placed a hand on Samantha's shoulder. "Look, I know this must all be hard for you. But... can we grieve someplace where there's a bit more cover?"

Sam rested her own hand on top of Piper's. "Yeah, sorry... sure."

They turned, and started to walk away — when the tell-tale screech of bullets suddenly surrounded them.

 _"F— Blue, get down!"_

They dove behind a nearby car. Piper's mind raced to catch herself back up to speed. She peeked over the car's rim.

 _Super Mutants_. Two of them, maybe a third trailing far behind. She couldn't tell for sure before they started firing at her, forcing her to duck back down again. She looked over at her friend.

"Hey." Piper forced herself to smile, feigning confidence. "We got this."

The redhead gulped nervously, swallowing her fear. Piper clicked back the safety on her pistol. Sam pulled out a molotov. They looked at each other, and nodded.

Sam got up and threw the cocktail first. Piper waited for the sound and heat of the explosion, then stood herself, firing over the car's roof. Judging by the plumes of flame, Blue had overshot slightly, landing the grenade more _behind_ the mutants than between them. But it had still confused them, and maybe done a little harm.

Piper fired round after round. She'd had to tangle with super mutants before. They didn't really have any weaknesses like other Commonwealth denizens. Shooting for the head was about as effective as shooting for the chest — mutants were tough all over, like that.

The monsters got their bearings back, and started to return fire. This was the part that Piper hated most — the fear, the trust in dumb old luck. Fortunate for her, super mutants had even worse aim than her own. A few bullets hit, but only grazing. They did more harm to her trench coat than to her actual body. Damnit.

"Gonna be your last mistake!" She yelled tauntingly. Blue jumped up next to her in that moment, another bottle ready in her hands. She threw — _not far enough_ , this time. It landed between the mutants and themselves. Even at a distance, the heat was enough to make the both of them hide back behind the car's body.

Blue raised both hands, as if to say _'Sorry about that.'_ Piper shook her head, implying a _'No, you're fine!'_ response.

She looked back up over the car. One of the mutants had collapsed, presumably from the mix of bullets and flames. She emptied the rest of her clip into the other, and it fell to the ground as well, gurgling and bleeding out.

Then a third figure came running up between the other two — not a super mutant, but a mutant's hound.

The thought of snarling, gnashing teeth made Piper freeze for a critical split second. The hound was too fast for her to react, and before she could even call to Blue for help, it had leapt right up and over the car, spun around, and bitten right into her leg.

Piper screamed. She tried her best to shake the creature off, but that only made things worse. She braced herself against the car, preparing to kick it with her free leg, but Blue came swinging into her field of vision before she could react. The beast howled, releasing its jaws and turning to face its attacker.

She slumped down in shock. Blue smashed her bat into the mutant hound until it lay lifeless in the road. Somewhere in the back of Piper's mind, buried beneath the fear and the pain, she was grateful to her friend for helping her.

Blue kicked the corpse once, then turned and ran right to Piper's side. She was clearly worried. They each managed a vague, strained smile for the other, despite her wounds.

"How did I ever travel without you, Blue?"


	53. Chapter 53

"I _still_ wish you'd let me stim you!"

Samantha didn't mind having to help Piper walk. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that her friend was clearly, actively, in pain.

"Blue, I'll be _fine,"_ she growled back through gritted teeth. "Just get us to the old hospital. We'll find stuff to get me patched up there."

She rolled her eyes. At least Piper wasn't wincing with every step, like she had been earlier. _I guess that's a sign of some improvement?_ Even so, Sam couldn't help but feel like there was more she could have done. If she had gotten in the way of the mutant hound sooner. If their spots had been reversed...

But she was getting lost in possibilities. And Piper was right about one thing, at least — they only had so many stimpaks between them, and it would _not_ be good if they ran out. Anything they could do to heal up without having to use one was worth the effort.

She shifted her arm, making sure it still had a good grip around her friend. Walking side by side was nothing new for them, but not with Piper literally using her as a crutch. Still, she didn't mind being able to help. If anything, a little closeness was welcome after the shock of that first fight.

And so they hobbled along, together. Sam had a pretty good sense where she was going — Boston was far from new to her, after all — though there were only so many landmarks left for her to go on. Her Pip-Boy's roadmap helped for double-checking.

Piper heaved a short laugh as they went. "I ever tell you, about this one time? Nick got busted up, so bad, that both his legs..."

"No more talk like that," Sam interrupted. "You're gonna be okay."

They marched on, up city blocks that felt like marathon tracks. Sam was just grateful that no one else attacked them on their way. They rounded a corner, and it came into view.

Sam remembered this old medical center. It looked to be in pretty sorry shape, just like everything else these days. The doorway in was a little tough to get through with Piper leaning on her, but they did their best together to make it work.

They looked around. The inside was in shambles.

"Oh yeah, Piper," Sam said coarsely. "Quality establishment, this is!"

She felt bad as soon as she finished making the smart remark. Surprisingly, the reporter laughed, and played along. "Ain't it though? What'd I tell ya, Blue!"

They made their way over to an intact seat. Sam eased Piper down into it. "You stay here," she said. "I'll go fetch the doctor."

Piper sighed from the chance to rest, and Sam went off looking for supplies. She turned trays upside down and med kits inside out. She looked for bandages, clean cloth, antiseptic, _anything_. Of course there was nothing left. This whole place would have been a gold mine for survival.

She day-dreamt as she searched. The disarray this place must have been in when the bombs fell. She imagined everything going wrong at once — the shockwave, the blackout, the panicked screams. Everyone rushing to help everyone else, without even understanding what had happened to the world outside.

She managed to find a clean roll of gauze and some alcohol. _This is ridiculous_ , she thought. _One stimpak,_ and _none_ of this would have been necessary. Stimpaks were more precious than she'd allowed herself to realize.

And her friend was proving a whole lot tougher than she'd thought.

* * *

"To tell you the truth, Blue? I've always hated doctors taking care of me."

"Well, you're in luck then, because I'm _certainly_ no doctor! Now, can you lift you leg?"

She could, and did, but it clearly hurt for her to do so. Sam braced the leg on her shoulder, and worked on exposing the wound. Most of the bleeding had been sopped up by the woman's pant leg.

They exchanged glances, and Sam poured out the alcohol over the bite marks, dripping onto the floor.

Piper's gaze made contact with the ceiling. Her body tensed. Her expression froze. But she didn't frown. She didn't even groan. _Tougher than I thought, indeed_.

Sam tore open the package of cloth and bandaged the wound as best she could. She lowered her friend's leg gently to the ground.

Piper breathed again, easing her way through the pain. "Blue..."

Her hand lingered on the reporter's ankle. Their eyes met.

"Thanks, for looking out for me."

Something shifted slightly in Samantha's heart — something she couldn't track, or get an angle on.

The feeling left as quickly as it came, and she snapped out of the moment's pause. She smiled, and told her friend to rest. Piper smiled back, and allowed her eyes to close.

Sam sat on the floor next to her and held watch. She had no sense for how often a given place got raided. Was she right to be keeping such a careful vigil? Was she being overcautious? She considered poking Piper for advice, but for all she knew, the reporter could already be drifting into sleep. _Even a short nap will help_ , Sam told herself.

She looked up at her friend — eyes closed, half smiling, half wincing. It would take longer for this kind of aid to settle in, but if she was so determined to preserve their supply of stims, so be it. They were sure to get into far worse fights than this, once they were actually in the thick of trying to break Nick free.

There could be no doubt — Sam was going to have to learn to be a fighter. She glanced to Piper's pistol for a moment, but felt her stomach drop, and looked away.

She reached into her pack and pulled out a molotov, setting it down between her legs. Her trusty swatter rested against the seat, ready at a moment's notice.

She'd find a way to make it work. She always had so far.


	54. Chapter 54

Piper woke up to the noise of crashing in a distant room.

She looked around, getting her bearings back. She wasn't sure how long she had been out — _must have drifted off after Blue took care of me_. She looked around for her friend, surprised to find she was sitting right beside her. Had she stayed there the whole time? How long had 'the whole time' been?

Blue reached for her swatter and arched an eyebrow questioningly. Piper shook her head and held up a finger, suggesting silence. She had done this dozens of times. Different kinds of folks in the Commonwealth made different kinds of sounds, if you knew what to listen for.

The thuds and clangs were metallic, more lower pitched than high. Whoever was on the floor above them, they were going through cabinets. But they weren't actively tossing small things like surgical tools aside. Were they searching for something? They didn't sound to be in a particular rush.

The noises were almost rhythmic in their timing, like drawers being gone through in some sort of pattern. Every time, the bangs came with the same volume, the same application of force. Raiders couldn't be so precise _if they tried_. Raiders would also have yelled back and forth at each other. Heck, even super mutants were prone to talk at least a little, and their noises would have been a whole lot messier.

What did that leave, _ferals?_ They _slept_ during the day. _It still was day, right?_ Maybe she and Blue had disturbed them. But then why were they only stirring now, and only on the floor above them? No, that didn't add up.

The clangs and bangs continued in their steady rhythm, coming from one room, then the next, and the next. Piper felt a thread of ice trail up her spine. There was one other possibility, she just hadn't wanted to admit it.

"Blue." Her voice was practically a whisper. She didn't move her head to make eye contact as she spoke. "We need to go, _right now."_

Sam tried to match her hushed tone, but only managed to meet her partway. "Why?" she asked, far more loudly than Piper would have hoped. "What's—"

 _"Sshh!"_

She gestured coolly for them to pack. Piper leaned forward, feeling out her bandaged leg. She recalled what little pieces of advice she had heard in the past. _Move slowly. Stay low. Hope they don't detect you. Stay still if you're hidden — they're programmed to second-guess._

Sam was, of course, oblivious to all this. Piper hadn't told her anything about them. She hadn't thought it would be necessary. Not yet, at any rate.

"Piper, what's going on?" Sam asked, standing up abruptly, and far faster than she should have.

Piper's stomach dropped, but before she could tell her to slow down, she heard _its_ voice.

"MOVEMENT, ON, INFRARED, WAVELENGTH, DETECTED."

The reporter didn't dare use any words. She shot up from her seat, grabbed Blue by her leather bandolier, and pulled her down to the floor along with her. They were practically on top of each other, but Piper didn't care.

 _'Don't. Do. Anything.'_ she mouthed.

The sounds overhead changed in their pattern. The thuds had stopped. The two of them had been detected — but not confirmed. Maybe, _just maybe_ , they wouldn't read as human on a second scan.

Blue's eyes began to widen, finally starting to grasp the situation on her own. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed.

"I, SEE, NOTHING. ARE, YOU, SURE?"

"PERHAPS, I, AM, MAL-FUNCTIONING."

Relief rushed over Piper like a wave. She gestured towards the door with her eyes. _'Outside.'_

Samantha started to silently mouth words back at her. _'Are those...?'_

 _'Outside!'_

* * *

They were in the clear. The medical center was a distant memory, and they were well on their way downtown. The sun was at its apex in the sky. They still had plenty of time left in the day. But what a morning it had been.

"How's the leg?"

Piper was clearly hobbling a little as she walked, but... "Better. A lot better, thanks."

Still, a bandage and an hour's rest could only do so much. She'd need to wait for a full night's sleep before she could say how much damage had been truly done. But for the time being, at least, she knew she'd be okay. She had Blue there to help her, after all.

 _Poor Blue_ , still oblivious to so much in the Commonwealth. Piper was glad they were traveling together, rather than apart. For more reasons than one.

"So... those voices back there..."

"Yes Blue." Piper interrupted the question before Sam even finished it. "Those were _synths."_

Blue shuddered a little. "Their voices cut right through you, don't they?"

Piper raised an eyebrow. "I guess? However you feel it, I don't know anyone they don't leave _a little_ fear in."

Her friend nodded. "I'm starting to see why. And heck, I haven't even actually seen them yet!"

"You're not missing much!" She shook her head. "Really, there's not much there to miss. They're skeletons, practically, just with circuits and rebar instead of bones."

Blue nodded. "Bogeymen of the future indeed..."

Piper wasn't sure what to make of that. But it didn't matter, they were coming up on the entrance to the train station Ellie had mentioned.

"Well!" She chimed, her tone cheery and sarcastic. "First, super mutants, then a scavenging band of synths... you ready to round it out with a bunch of ghouls from Goodneighbor?"

Sam laughed. "Earlier, I might've said no. But with the madness that's gone on this morning..."

Piper smiled sympathetically "I understand, Blue. I don't like getting into fights either. But it's—"

"—not exactly like we have a choice." The redhead smiled, her tone understanding too, and warm.

 _And now we're completing each other's sentences_ , Piper thought. _Great_.

She unholstered her pistol, and Sam readied her bat. Neither of them knew what to expect. But at least, they'd have each other.


	55. Chapter 55

"Christ, Piper, you weren't kidding about Nick getting in deep!"

Bullets sliced through the air above them, screaming as they went, slamming into the far wall. Chunks of tile and cement fell off with every new hole the gunshots made. If people had been fighting like this for the past two hundred years, Sam could see how the world had fallen into such decay.

She couldn't even tell what was what in the train station anymore. Everything had been so torn apart and vaguely reassembled. Mobsters fired at them from behind a barricade where turnstiles used to be. Piper and herself had taken cover behind a wall of rubble that never would have existed, back in her time.

But even with all the distracting clutter, she had a feeling they were on the trail to Valentine. If nothing else, the constant run-ins with gang members suggested they were heading someplace guarded. And if there _was_ a Vault down here, like that secretary back in Diamond City had suggested, Sam figured it would be at the lowest possible point — at the track level, maybe even lower.

Piper started to make some sassy remark back, but was drowned out by the constant hail of gunfire. There was a large swath of no-man's land running through the center of the station, but otherwise everyone had ducked behind some sort of cover, and now it was all one big game of trench warfare.

She inched closer to her friend. Sam couldn't deny that part of her was scared, for Piper as much as for herself. But part of her was also slowly starting to grow accustomed to these firefights. As much as anyone could ever get used to being shot at.

Sam spoke first. "So do we wait until they run out of bullets or...?"

Piper laughed but shook her head. "No way of knowing how much they've got in reserve. And more of them could show up any time. Pass me a grenade?"

She nodded and reached behind her, rummaging through the pack. The reporter went back to exchanging fire while she waited. "That's one less of you!" she heard her taunt. _For a pacifist, she's got some serious fighting spirit_.

She pulled out a molotov and turned back around, tapping on Piper's side. She tried to be gentle, not wanting to cause her leg any undue pain. Her friend ducked down and switched in a new clip of ammunition. "Gonna run out myself at this rate."

Piper accepted the grenade and turned around, standing back up. But she took too long with the windup, met by a volley of shots before she could even throw the thing, forcing her to duck down once again.

"On, uh... second thought, Blue? Why don't you take care of this?"

Sam took the bottle back reluctantly. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to shift her focus away from the present. Piper had her back; she knew she didn't have to be afraid.

The sounds of the battle didn't truly become more distant in her mind, she just attended to them less. Eyes still tightly shut, she tried to envision the layout of the room, reconstructing the walls and barricades of wreckage in her mind. She oriented herself in the imaginary space, picturing the arc that her grenade would have to take, to reach the other side.

She opened her eyes. Still hidden behind cover, she threw the molotov cocktail. A moment's pause as it flew through the air and out of sight — and then, the explosion, the heat wave, and the howls of pain.

She cringed to herself internally. _Setting men on fire_ — as though that were any better than filling them with lead. She wished it didn't _feel_ so different to her.

Piper, oblivious to her inner dialogue, simply turned and nodded with display. "Good throw, Blue!"

Sam shrugged back in thanks. She opened her mouth to speak, to share, to think out loud — but they were interrupted by a man. A ghoul, running into view, still trying to shake off his flaming jacket. He made eye contact with them for a moment. His lifeless stare chilled Samantha to the bone.

Piper reacted before Sam could, standing up and bringing her pistol to bear, right in front of his face. Was she trying to _intimidate_ him?

Her words rang out loud and defiant, stronger than Sam had imagined they would be. "This is your last—"

But it didn't work. The ghoul kicked her square in the abdomen and sent her stumbling backwards until she hit the floor. Piper winced in pain. The man cast off his jacket and dusted his hands. "Little bitch."

Sam grabbed her bat on instinct. Anger, more than tactics, fueled her forward charge. Why he didn't kick her too, she couldn't say. Perhaps she had surprised him, or moved too quickly for him to aim. He doubled over from her first strike — a blow clean across the gut. _Fitting, after what he'd done to Piper._

She wheeled about to hit him from behind, but he turned and matched her, deflecting the bat with his arm and decking her in the head. She stumbled back, dizzied from the blow. She tried to take a swing at him, but the world was a blur, and she couldn't get the angle right.

She felt weak, and stupid. The ghoul laughed, but then — a single gunshot sounded, and the laughter changed to a wet gurgle, and then a thud. When Sam finally got herself seeing straight, she saw the man lying on the floor. Thick, dark blood pooled around him. She looked over to Piper, her pistol still slightly smoking at the end. _That shot had just saved Sam's skin_.

Neither of them said thanks — not because it wasn't there, but because it didn't need to be said. Each of them could see it on the other's face.

"Come on" Sam said. "Your friend is down there somewhere. This is far from over."


	56. Chapter 56

Fight by fight, floor by floor, Blue and Piper conquered Park Street Station.

Through a little caution, and a lot of luck, neither of them took any truly grievous blows along the way. Blue even caught a few opponents by surprise — and _thank goodness for it_ , Piper thought. The occasional stimpak, and an ever-growing sense of teamwork between the women, covered all the rest.

By the time they reached the lowest level, it was clear to Piper that they both could use a break. She nodded to her friend, conveying as much without even a need for words. Blue leaned against the nearest wall and slid gently to the floor, heaving a sigh.

The reporter couldn't help but look at her sympathetically. _Poor girl, thrown into all of this. Life must have been so peaceful for her, before she wound up here. Before she wound up now_. Piper's mind flitted back through time, recalling her own first firefight. She had changed so much since then. Blue would change too, and for the better. She knew it.

"Thirsty, Blue?"

Samantha nodded. She was still wiping specks of sweat and blood from her face, cooling off from the violence in more ways than one. Piper rummaged through her pack, and tossed her a can. Carrying clean water around definitely added weight, but it was worth it, for her friend's well-being.

She went to get a drink of her own from a nearby fountain. The water it spurted out had the smell and hue of rust. It was cold, yet she could feel her mouth and throat burn as she drank. _Irradiated_. Of course it was irradiated. But she could live with that. Blue couldn't.

She walked back over to her friend and sat down next to her. They talked for a while about everything and nothing. After so much fighting, so much adrenaline, Blue's voice was the comforting distraction that she needed.

After chatting for what felt like minutes — but had probably been much, much longer — Piper got up again, and decided to take a little look around. Mostly, she admired the ancient earthworks, and searched for anything that they could scavenge.

"Hey Blue! Come look at this!"

She heard the shuffle of her friend getting up, making her way over. "What's up?"

Piper had found what looked to be a tiny storeroom. The door to get inside was locked, but its contents were visible, even from the exterior. A toolbox, some duct tape... and a sledgehammer, leaning against the wall, flawlessly intact.

Blue raised an eyebrow at the mallet, and then at her. Piper raised both eyebrows back.

"I mean, look, if you're gonna swing something, might as well be the best thing you can get, right? Unless... you're willing to try taking up a gun? There's certainly plenty of 'em lying around, y'know."

Blue's expression fell into a thoughtful frown. She was clearly considering, judging, weighing. Piper felt _sure_ that there was something more to Blue's distaste for guns — possibly more than she was consciously aware of. But now was not the time for that discussion.

Sam shook her head. "I'll give the hammer a go, though."

Piper sighed. "Alright, but one of these days, I want a proper explanation of what's up. With the no-guns thing."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Fine, you'll have it. Later. Now, if I may?"

She chuckled and stepped aside. "Sure, Blue. Do what you do best."

Sam flitted back a smile, then crouched in front of the door. _Knows her way around a bobby pin_ — yet another trait of Blue's that made her smile.

* * *

They were moving again, weaving between old wreckages of track and train. After so much fighting, the ruins felt eerily quiet. She could almost hear her own heartbeat. Unwittingly, she stayed extra close to Blue as they went.

It turned out they didn't have to look very far, as the last of the trains cleared from their field of vision. The tunnels themselves gave way to a cavernous opening. Only, one side of the rock wall wasn't rock at all. It was Vault.

Where stone would have been, there stood instead a massive barrier of metal, big as any construct she had seen above ground, maybe bigger. Maybe it just felt that way in the moment. A giant, gear-shaped door lay in the middle. The numbers _1-1-4_ painted across the center.

She could see why people would have trusted in a place like this to protect them. Even from the apocalypse itself.

They walked up the steps of metal grating to a small switchboard. There was no clear interface that Piper could see, but she had never been particularly good with technology. "There some sort of secret knock you Vault-types use?"

Blue squinted her eyes. "Actually, kind of. Hang on a second," she thought out loud. "I remember something like this from my Vault..."

 _Her Vault_. Piper still sometimes could not believe that Blue had come from one of these. Even with her nickname as a constant reminder.

Sam reached under her Pip-Boy and pulled out some sort of plug on a retractable cable. She found the lock to match her key, and plugged herself into the Vault's controls.

Lights flashed. Sirens blared. Piper stood in awe. Opening the seal to an ancient ruin, with technology that only Blue alone could wield. It felt like they were living in a fairytale. She dwelt on the impossible odds by which their lives had intersected. Her heart reeled. Her head hurt.

The steel door screeched as it steadily heaved backwards. They both covered their ears, but they also each looked to the other. There was an unusual ferocity in Samantha's gaze — fear, but also strength.

The giant gear rolled sideways along its teeth, revealing the vaulted world within. But in that moment, Piper's eyes were fixed on Blue alone. She lowered her hands. "You ready?"

"No..." Blue laughed, picking her new sledgehammer off the floor. "But here we go anyway."


	57. Chapter 57

Last time Samantha had been inside a Vault, it had held her captive as everything she knew and loved was stripped away. She was not pleased to be setting foot inside another one, willingly or otherwise.

But she didn't have time to complain — they were barely across the catwalk before they were met by gunfire. Piper dove for protection, as fit the usual tactic between them. The reporter's covering fire had saved her skin more than once.

For her part, Sam's newfound weapon definitely had a different feel than her old bat. It took a lot more force to swing, and it was unwieldy, too. The bat had been light, lighter than this, at least, and its weight was better balanced. The mallet's weight was all at the end. She almost stumbled forward herself as she swung it.

But when it connected with her enemy, she knew the swatter's days were done. _One hit_ , and the gangster was dead on the ground. The man next to him, a terrible, sickly, leprous looking thing — _a ghoul, as Piper called them_ — took one look at what she had done to his companion, and dropped his gun, hands raised above his head.

"H- hey now!" His voice was raspy, like every word he spoke was with his dying breath. "Look, I... I lived too long for it to end like this. Lemme go, doll!"

The chance to spare a life was welcome reprieve from having to save so many others. She wanted to apologize for what she'd done, to explain that she didn't want any of this. But she knew that wouldn't go over well. He was only giving up because she scared him.

"Yeah, get out of here..." She nodded sideways and behind her, towards the open Vault door. "And pray I never see you again, got it?"

"Got it! You won't! N- neither of you!" He took off across the walkway, practically tripping from how fast he sprinted. Sam let her weapon rest against the floor, and shook her head. _Poor ghoul bastard, indeed_.

Piper stepped out from behind the cover she had taken, an unexpected smile on her face. "Proud of you, Blue."

Sam shrugged. "Wish it could be that way with more of them, y'know?"

"I do know." Her slow nod spoke volumes. Of course she knew. Piper had lived through violence like this all her life. Sam forced herself to smile, for her friend's sake.

"I guess we'd better keep going, huh?"

Her friend pattered her on the back. "I'll be right behind ya."

* * *

Sam was definitely not enjoying this.

Around every corner, she half-expected to see a Vault-Tec operator, or a scanning bay. Something, _anything_ to match the traumatic memories etched into her brain. But she found nothing. Not even any cryo pods. Were those not a thing in this Vault? Had that been something unique to 111?

She felt lost inside a maze, roaming the Vault's labyrinthine corridors. Neither of them still had any clue what they were looking for. Was this entire search of theirs in vain?

They wandered, for how long Samantha couldn't say — until she felt a familiar hand on her. Piper turned her around so they stood face to face. The reporter's stare was strong, but caring. The hazel hue in her irises seemed somehow to reflect that.

"Blue... you okay?" There was an ever-so-slight tremble to her inquiry. It was more than enough to bring Sam to attention.

"Yes!" she stammered. "Er, well... no, I guess." Her gaze fell to the floor. "It hurts, being back in a place like this."

"I was afraid of that." Her voice was full of understanding. "C'mon, Nick can't be much farther. I'm sure of it."

Sam laughed sarcastically. "You're sure of a lot of things, aren't ya?"

Piper smirked back. "I like to think I've got a decent intuition. I mean, it told me to stick around with you, didn't it?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. _What was that supposed to mean?_

She started to talk back, but heard people coming. Their banter would have to wait. Piper's eyes shifted in their focus. She reached for her gun. Sam gripped her sledge, and moved herself just beside the door. They waited.

The door opened. The men walked out.

Piper twirled her pistol around her trigger finger teasingly. "Hello, boys."

"What the— hey! We got an intruder in here!"

The reporter aced her job at stealing their attention. In the second it took the thugs to ready themselves, Piper darted behind a shelf of old equipment, and Sam was able to hit them from behind.

 _One_ , straight down into the first guy's back. His story was over. That left just his friend.

 _Two_ , up and across into the remaining mobster. He stumbled backwards and collapsed into the hallway he had entered from, rib cage smashed.

Sam advanced on him, winding up for an overhead blow. She couldn't begin to imagine the pain she had just put him in. The man deserved a swifter death.

His gaze met hers for a moment. "The hell is wrong wi—!"

She couldn't bear it. She shut her eyes tight, and swung.

 _Three_ , right down into her target. His half-sentence lingered in her ears, never to be finished. Her eyes remained shut as she tried to cope. She did her best to breathe, to not get lost in overthinking her decisions. _This is necessary_ , she told herself. It was the only choice she had. That, or _shoot them_.

Piper's voice rang behind her. "Blue, look out!"

Confused, she opened her eyes only to meet with a sudden chill. A third Triggerman was in the hallway, still alive. And he had his submachine gun aimed directly at her.

She didn't even have time to act. To think. To wish. All her fear came crashing together in a single moment.

The glaring flash and blaring noise of bullet fire filled her mind, until her whole reality collapsed into a body-full of pain.


	58. Chapter 58

_"BLUE!"_

Piper screamed not only with her voice, but with her heart. She fired as quickly as her trigger finger let her. Her aim was worse than usual, but she didn't care. There was little that she _did_ care about in that moment.

She kept shooting even after the gangster fell lifeless on the floor. She wanted him _dead_ dead, to the point that she even kicked the corpse. Symbolic though it was, it brought her peace. Peace enough to stabilize her thought, holster her gun, and sprint back to Samantha's side.

The redhead's shirt was soaked in blood. Piper slung off her pack and tore it open, cursing as she went. Cursing Blue, cursing herself, cursing for the sake of simply venting her emotions. She pulled out a stimpak and jammed it in the woman's side.

 _Nothing_. The fear in her began to escalate. She hit Blue with a second stim, and she began to stir. Sam turned her head to one side and coughed up a couple drops of blood.

Piper didn't know if she wanted to hug Blue for being alive, or smack her for nearly getting killed. Probably both.

But Blue could hear her now, so she had to watch her words. She censored her rambling, and tried her best to put on a pleasant face.

"Welcome back, _hero,"_ she said sarcastically. "Any news from the gates of death?"

Samantha coughed again. Was she trying to _laugh?_

"Yeah. You're not... missing anything..." She coughed again. "Ugh, I feel like I could vomit."

"Please don't?" was the best Piper could manage. "You're in no condition to move right now, not even if I dragged you. Do you really want to—?"

Blue raised a hand. "I get it."

 _Well, she's able to talk, and move her arms_. That had to count for something, right?

"Here..." Piper took her trench coat off and draped it over Blue. She dragged her pack around as well, propping the woman's head up on it like a pillow. All in all, it was a pretty shoddy arrangement. But Piper was too scared to do anything better.

"I'm... g- gonna go looking for Nick, ok? I'm sure he's close."

Sam put on the faintest smirk she'd ever seen. "Intuition, right?"

Piper sighed so loudly it turned into a groan. "Remind me to punch you once you're all recovered." She was still too lost in panic to admit it, but being able to joke around with Blue like this was the best reassurance she could ask for. "I'll be back soon. Hey... we're gonna get out of here, ok? All three of us."

Blue nodded and closed her eyes. Piper clambered to her feet, and stepped out of the hall, muttering as she went. "Don't you even _think_ of dying while I'm gone."

* * *

Piper hated being by her lonesome.

The one advantage to traveling by herself now — the one, cruel, silver-lining to Blue's injury, was how much lighter she felt. Her entire pack was back in the hallway, holding up her friend's head so she didn't choke on her own blood. She had her pistol, her press cap, and a single stimpak in her pocket, just in case.

She felt light, sure, but also _less_. The Vault was definitely less inviting than she had imagined. It wore on her, especially without Blue's company. She'd started to count on her friend being there. All the danger and quirkiness of never using guns aside, Blue was useful in a fight — and not just for how she bashed in skulls at point-blank range. She was inspiring. She gave her something to fight for, to care about. Piper just felt safer in her company.

But now, she didn't have those luxuries, so it was back to how it used to be — sneaking, hiding, shooting when required. She was on the verge of giving up, when she heard something. Distant conversation. One voice was unknown to her, but the other...

 _It had to be._

She followed the sound into a wide-open room. Looking around, she saw one gangster at the upper level, facing away from her. She felt bad, shooting him in the back — but she did it all the same.

"Aw, come on!" the other voice yelled from behind a pane of glass. "Now who am I supposed to talk with to pass the time?"

 _Yeah, that's definitely Valentine._

She ran up the stairs as fast as she could, turning to look in through the sealed glass pane. "Sorry to cut the party short, Nicky."

 _"Piper!"_

"Surprised?" She crossed her arms in satisfaction. "Ellie told us you'd gone missing. I'm here to break you out, and I've got backup, too." She paused, reconsidering her word choice. "Well, backup, but also a client. We need your help."

Nick's expression didn't change. It never changed. His tone of voice was all she had to go on. "Well then, that makes all of us, doesn't it?"

She tried to laugh, but couldn't. "Nick, she's badly injured, I... I almost lost her. What do I do?!"

"Well, you hit her with a stimpak, right?"

She nodded.

"Chances are, then, she's already fine! But listen, if you want me out of here, you'll need to get through that terminal by the door."

Piper took one look at the computer and felt her stomach plummet through the floor. She couldn't hack a computer, especially not with Blue's bloodied image in her head.

"I'm sorry Nick..." she turned back and leaned her forehead against the glass. "I can't do this."

"Well, could your friend?"

She grimaced. _Maybe_. Was it worth a shot? Maybe Nick was right, and Blue _would_ be mobile by the time she got back to her.

She gulped nervously. "I'll go see. Stay put."

Nick laughed coarsely. "Not like I have much choice. Good luck. I hope your friend's alright."

Piper felt her blood run cold as she headed back down to see how Blue was feeling. _I hope so too_.


	59. Chapter 59

She ran as quickly as she bled. She bled as quickly as she ran.

Down endless hallways lined by endless doors, she searched in vain something that she knew could not be hers. Her stance was off, her footing wrong, like something was broken deep inside of her. Her blood spilled out upon the floor, causing her to slip. Her limbs kept going numb with cold.

She cried out for her lover, whom she couldn't give a face. She cried inward for her future, which she couldn't give a name.

Behind each door lay the same thick pane of frosted glass. Some of them, she spoke to, seeking answers she knew she couldn't have. Others, she looked into, but not as deeply as she could — too scared that she would see something she wished she could forget. Dying once had been enough. She knew she couldn't live through it again.

Door after door. They mocked her, laughed at her. In _his_ voice. _He_ mocked her for all she couldn't do. She saw _his_ scar, saw it reflected in the glass. Her hands wrapped hard around her mallet, crackling with the fire of her hate. She swung with all her might against the fault line. Her universe exploded.

Reality screamed as she stumbled forward from her cryopod, falling through the void she had created. Shards of broken ice fell one by one into her skin, coursing through her like all-too-recent wounds. With every jab of pain, she heard a voice. It called her, in a name that wasn't hers. _Blue_.

 _"Blue."_

* * *

 _"Blue!"_

"WHAT?!"

It wasn't until after she had screamed her answer, that she realized she might no longer be asleep. It was impossible to know or trust in anything with certainty. She was just so tired, desperate for the fever-dream to end.

Piper jumped from the response she got. "Oh my god! Blue, are... are you okay?"

Sam blinked her eyes, trying to remember where she was. Where she _wasn't_. Her heart was still racing. Her body still felt numb.

 _A sigh_. "Of course you're not okay. Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. But hey..."

She scanned her surroundings as best she could, still riveted in place, paralyzed with confusion, and with cold.

The reporter snapped her fingers. "Hey! Trying to have a conversation here? Blue, _I found Nick!"_ Her sentence echoed in Samantha's mind. It took a second for her last wisps of dream to fade away, but she finally put together the meaning of the woman's words.

"Nick? Really?!" In her excitement, she tried to sit up at attention — but a pain shot through her, starting at her torso. She fell back down onto the backpack propped behind her, wincing.

Piper frowned and patted her consolingly. "Easy there, your body took a heavy beating. It's a miracle you're in as good condition as you are. But yes, I found him. And, uh..." her eyes shifted, breaking contact. "I need your help, to break him out."

Sam nodded back, not really thinking though her words, and reached up with her arms. Piper grabbed hold of her, and pulled, slowly lifting her to her feet. The pain was definitely still there, but she could keep it to a dull ache, rather than the spike that it had been at first. Having something to brace herself against helped with that immensely — first Piper, and then the nearby wall.

The setting didn't help either. All she could think of was how cold and scared and nauseous she had been, the last time she'd been in a Vault.

"Hey, you... want your trench coat back?"

"Keep it for now, Blue. You need it more than I do. Can you walk?"

The reporter didn't say much as they went, in a way that felt unusual to her. Like there was something on her mind, that she didn't have the words or willingness to say. Piper led the way — Sam trailing behind, nearly tripping more than once over a gangster's corpse.

"These guys... Piper, you did all this?"

She nodded wordlessly, like it was nothing special. _Jeez_ , Sam thought, _what does she keep me around for?_

At that rate, she wondered what it was that Piper needed help with. Sam was in no condition to fight. Goodness knew, her sledgehammer felt like it weighed as much as a car all by itself. She probably had the concentration to pick a lock, but she was all out of pins. What did that leave, _talking_ their way through a problem? With her current attitude, diplomacy would probably go over as well as a grenade.

Piper led her through corridors beyond her tired, pained ability to count. Were it not for the presence of her friend, she would have started wondering if she'd fallen back asleep. But the pattern broke, as they stepped into a different kind of chamber — it was big, _spacious_ even, with multiple floors.

"He's right up here Blue, c'mon!"

Piper double-timed her way up the atrium's stairwells. Sam did her best to follow suit. The reporter's expression read as hopeful, pushy even, but never impatient, never disappointed. It meant a lot to her that Piper never called her out as weak.

She was on the verge of smiling, when she saw and realized what it was that Piper had brought her there for. She stared at the terminal, and in turn at her friend. Piper's own hopeful smile began to wilt.

"Blue, _please_. I know you don't like them either but... they're from your time. You've _got_ to understand them at least a _little!"_

Samantha rolled her eyes and sighed. _It didn't work that way_ , but Piper just refused to understand that. So she held her tongue, and bit her lip. She nodded, much to her friend's approval. She walked up to the monitor and leaned forward over the keyboard, pressing keys until the system whirred to life.

Piper was counting on her. For her sake, she'd give it her best try.


	60. Chapter 60

Piper watched nervously as Blue hacked into the terminal. It meant a lot to her that she was willing to try, even when it was so far outside her comfort zone. None of this was comfortable for any of them, she figured. Blue was tired, injured, and scared. Piper was anxious, lonely, and cold.

Samantha was still wearing her red leather trench coat. She laughed to herself about it, in her mind. Blue looked _good_ in it. It matched her hair, and it fit her form astonishingly well.

There wasn't much for her to do but wait. Blue was far too focused on the task at hand for idle conversation. So Piper simply stood, and watched. She made the mistake of letting her eyes settle on Samantha's face.

Her expression was almost... mousy, in a way that she found hard to pinpoint. Maybe it was a function of her features? Her small jaw, her thin cheeks, her cutely upturned nose. Her ears that poked out behind bangs of crimson hair. _Could her hair really, naturally be that deep a red?_

Natural or not, Piper didn't care. Blue was about as pretty as they came. In retrospect, she couldn't believe it had taken her this long to notice.

She was a bit less pretty when she frowned, which she was doing at the moment, even if just from concentration. Piper had seen Samantha's smile, her _real_ smile — and god, could it light up a room. She could never help herself from smiling or laughing back, whenever her friend did the same. Even thinking about it was enough to make her grin. Blue glanced over at her for a moment, and quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "Something funny?"

Piper stammered in response. "What? No, nothing! Go on."

Sam squinted at her for a second, like she could tell that there was something going on in Piper's mind. But she didn't press, and turned back to her work, clacking away at the keys, only stopping now and then to lean her head on one hand, staring at the screen, eyes glazed over in total thought.

 _God, those eyes_.

Everything that Piper knew, all her tricks of confidence and staving off her stutter, everything she used to drill into her mark and get the stories she needed for the paper. _None of it_ worked against Blue's stare. She could melt before those eyes, or get lost in them, like she sometimes lost herself while staring up into the sky.

Blue took a step back and pulled at her hair. "Okay, okay, I've almost got this..." her words seemed more aimed at calming herself than anybody else. "What's a five letter word, that repeats one of its characters, and has three characters in common with... wait, what were they?" She squinted back into the screen for a second. "zebra, omega, and maker."

Piper stared blankly. "Uhh..." Shenanigans like these were why Piper never tried to hack terminals. She worked with words for art, not science.

 _"Amaze!"_ Nick's voice rang out. Sam blinked and looked around, clearly startled by the answer out of nowhere.

"Oh! Blue, that's Nick!" Piper felt bad suddenly, for not making that clearer earlier. "He's just through this door. Go on, try it! I'd trust his brain. He's _very_ analytical."

Sam shook her head — not disagreeing, just shaking off the confusion. Piper sighed. _Nothing's been easy on you today, Blue, has it?_

Blue turned back to the terminal and punched the proper keys. The computer beeped back immediately. Sam cheered. "Password correct!"

 _Yes!_

Piper had to restrain herself from clapping with excitement, or scruffing Blue's hair approvingly, as she might with Nat. The door behind her unlocked, and they stepped through.

 _"Samantha Red,"_ she recited in a boastful, introducing tone, "meet _Nick Valentine."_

* * *

The conversation between Blue and Nick went relatively well. Nick was his usual self — dry and to the point. Blue was reserved, just as she had been with Piper when they had first met. She realized about a minute into their exchange, that she had never _technically_ brought Blue up to speed about the detective's identity. It had become so second-nature to her, growing up around him.

Nick puffed on his cigarette — not that it did anything for him, but it was one of those little ticks about him, one of those things that made him seem so human. "So, you need a little angel of vengeance, huh? Well, it's not my usual line of work, but for a friend of Piper's... I'll take the case. Though I doubt we'll find much for evidence in here."

Blue nodded sternly. The detective led the way out. Samantha followed, but hung back for a second, leaning in until the two of them were very close.

"Piper?" Her voice was practically a whisper. "Is _Nick_ what a _synth_ is?"

Piper snorted out loud with laughter from the question. "Yes, Blue." She tried her best to match the woman's volume. "But also no. He's... _different_ from the other synths. No one's really sure how or why. Not even himself."

Sam raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the private eye. "Well, aren't we all one big band of misfits?"

"Speak for yourself, old timer!" she teased, reaching down and grabbing Blue's hand. "Come on, let's go."

She continued holding on as she walked. Sam followed, with a look of confusion on her face.

"Uh, Piper? Can I... have my hand back?"

Piper felt a familiar warmth pass through her. _No, you can't,_ she thought _. I need this, Blue. I need to feel you close, right now. I need to know you're gonna be alright._

But she couldn't say that. She'd die on the spot from embarrassment. So she put on her playful attitude as best she could, and simply smirked. "What, you need it for something?"

Sam blinked. Her eyes looked softer than they had before. And, was... was she _blushing?_

Blush or not, Blue smiled. "You know? I guess I don't."


	61. Chapter 61

All the way out of the Vault, Sam and Piper continued holding hands.

At some point, they had even started interlacing fingers without thinking, or without caring. Either way, neither of them seemed to mind, nor did either seem intent on letting go. _I guess she's pretty shaken up from what happened, too_ , Sam thought.

They only broke their hand-hold during firefights — of which there were many, as they fought their way to freedom. Piper would run to join Nick at the lead, each of them with their firearm of choice. As for herself... Sam stayed back. She wasn't dying anymore, but that didn't mean she'd gotten back the strength to swing a hammer. Heck, she could barely _drag_ the thing.

Neither of her companions seemed to mind. At one point, she thought she'd overheard Piper saying something to Nick about her. But with the noise of combat, and Sam looking for a place to hide, it had been impossible to say for certain.

She felt bad, leaving them to fight on her behalf. At the same time, though, it was a much-needed change of pace for her to not be at the front of every killing spree.

 _Talk about a role reversal_. To think that earlier that very day, Sam had been the one helping Piper hobble along, making their way up to the abandoned hospital. _Was it really the same day?_ She checked her Pip-Boy. _Yeah, wow_. It was getting late in the day, but the date checked out. Except for the year, anyway. Sam wasn't sure she'd ever get completely used to living in _2287_. She did her best not to dwell on that small fact though. It tended to make her nauseous.

But every time, the firefights would end, Nick and Piper would patch each other up, and Sam would stumble out of hiding. She felt like such baggage to them, lagging behind and slowing their escape. But everything in her friend's demeanor spoke the opposite — like she was glad to have her there. Every time, her gun would go back in its holster, and their hands would reunite.

Sam couldn't find the words for how she felt, but she knew that she felt happier with Piper by her side. She benefitted from her company, her unspoken reassurances that they all would be okay. Sam had missed this. She could feel it slowly coursing through her like a tonic, healing what she had barely even known was broken.

Valentine's running commentary also helped to change the tone. What would have otherwise been a walk through looming, unwelcome nostalgia, Nick transformed into fuel for his dry humor.

 _"More stairs?_ Who built this damn Vault, a fitness instructor?"

Samantha laughed out loud, stopping only because of how it hurt for her to breathe too hard and fast. She felt Piper give her hand a gentle squeeze. Still wincing from the pain of having bullets in her gut, Sam returned the pulse with one of her own. It was a powerful tool for conveying what expressions wouldn't let her. She didn't mind the thought of them holding hands like this again, sometime.

Slowly and sordidly, Nick and Piper gunned down all the thugs they found. Sam started to wonder if there would be any gang left at all, by the time they were finished. _Well, Piper, you'll certainly have a story to write about when we get back_.

She imagined themselves back at Publick Occurrences. Piper tapping away at her terminal upstairs. Sam curled up on the couch below, sharing a mug of tea with Nat — or maybe coffee — recounting all the kinds of craziness they'd gotten up to. Though, maybe she'd omit the part where Nat's big sister nearly got her leg chomped off. Or the part where Sam herself was nearly shot to death.

She hated guns so much. What they did to her. What they did to anyone. Was she a fool for refusing to fight fire with fire? Piper was right to criticize her choices. Was _Sam_ right to think that Piper wouldn't understand her reasoning? Or that she wouldn't sympathize? Her traveling partner was at least as smart as anyone she'd known before the war — and more empathetic than most, by far.

They made their way up yet another flight of stairs. Nick fiddled with the controls to the nearest door. It was nice to see that Sam wasn't the only one who enjoyed taking things apart.

The detective turned to look at the two women, with only a momentary glance at how their fingers intertwined. "Listen, I can get this door open, but I hear footsteps on the other side. Be ready for anything. Both of you."

Sam nodded, and let go of Piper's hand. Her strength was slowly coming back to her — enough to stand up by herself, and for herself.

The reporter checked in anyway. "Blue?"

"I'll be alright."

Nick reached into the panel's electronics, and bridged a circuit with his metal hand. The doorway opened.

And suddenly, they were in a standoff.

Sam didn't even have the time to duck out of the way. The gang's leader — _Skinny Malone, Nick had called him?_ — stood front and center, flanked by bodyguards, with a mean-looking lady in a skimpy dress beside him. It was too much for her to take in all at once. All she could focus on was how _not ready_ she was to eat another volley full of lead.

In a whirlwind, Nick and Skinny broke into diplomatic banter back and forth. The conversation's details passed her by, in part from her own exhausted fear, and in part from Piper stepping next to her.

She didn't say anything. They didn't even hold hands. Closeness alone was enough to keep her stabilized. Whether Piper had moved closer for Sam's sake, or her own, she couldn't say.

 _"FINE!"_ Skinny Malone yelled, forcing Sam's attention. "I'm gonna give you until the count of _ten."_

Sam blinked. _What, exactly, had Valentine just negotiated?_


	62. Chapter 62

_"One..."_

Nick was already in the clear. As soon as Skinny Malone had made his offer of peace, he'd taken off. Piper wasn't terribly far behind — but couldn't help but run a little slower, with her hand still holding on to Blue's.

 _"Two..."_

She tugged at her friend's hand and arm as she went. "Blue, _come on."_

 _"Three..."_

"I'm trying!" Piper believed her, but she believed Malone's promise to shoot them even more. She looked behind her. _What was slowing them down?_

 _"Four..."_

"Oh my g— Blue, _forget_ the hammer! It's deadweight! You can buy yourself another one!"

 _"Five..."_

Sam sighed and dropped the weapon. Piper understood her pain. She'd left countless valued things behind, on trips throughout the Commonwealth.

 _"Six..."_

They were practically sprinting, now. But still, fear began to fill her. They couldn't get shot again. Not here. Not this close to being free. _Come on Blue. You got this._

 _"Seven..."_

She could hear Samantha gasp for air. She felt terrible, making Blue run so hard, with her body in such poor condition. She made a promise to herself that she would make it up to her, somehow.

 _"Eight..."_

She could see Nick in a hallway up ahead. Looking back at her, she saw him pointing farther into the room. It was hard to see for sure while running, but she was pretty sure she saw a set of stairs inside. _He knows a way up, thank goodness_.

 _"Nine..."_

Both women ran inside. She let go of Blue and spun around, slamming the steel door shut behind them. Its clang reverberated loudly through the room. She never heard him yell out _'Ten!'_ but she considered that a blessing.

 _Silence_ , save for the sound of Blue's exasperated coughing. Piper was a little short on breath herself. She peeked through the door's glass porthole. Triggermen were beginning to file out, prowling around the Vault's main entrance. None of them seemed to be coming in their direction, though.

"Looks like we lost 'em, Nicky." She turned again to face her longtime friend. "Good call, with a place like this. Though I _trust_ there's more to your plan than us just camping out here for the night."

Nick's face twitched slightly. She remembered learning years ago — Nick didn't laugh, possibly even _couldn't_ laugh, but his face would make a certain subtle twitch, whenever he might have aptly done so. His intonation carried plenty of emotion, but his attitude was cool as usual.

"Piper, would I lead you astray?"

She couldn't help but feel a pleasant warmth at his words, his voice. It wasn't the tingly kind of warmth she got from Blue, but Blue was different. Nick was a friend. Her _best_ friend. She felt safe around him in a way that no one else could make her.

He led the two of them up the stairs and to a ladder. They climbed — Nick first, then Blue, once she was feeling up to it, and finally Piper. The ladder led up into an old access tunnel. It was dark, and damp, and had clearly been abandoned since the War. _At least there aren't any mirelurks in here_.

Partway down the tunnel, before they reached the second ladder up, she felt Blue's hand reaching back behind her. Piper smiled, in body and in spirit. She took the woman's hand and held. "Hey Blue," she whispered. It was all she could bring herself to say.

* * *

"Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky."

They were above ground at last, and finally in the clear. The sun was setting, and the night's first star had just blinked into visibility.

Nick and Blue turned to speak with one other. Each one expressed their thanks for the other's help, and they agreed to a longer conversation back in Diamond City. Piper sat, and found herself admiring their conversation from the sidelines.

It was like Concord all over again, though with the details rearranged. Blue had grown since then, as a woman in her own right, and as Piper's partner. Their connection felt stronger, _truer_ , less likely to buckle under small or momentary mishaps.

There were still some things they weren't willing to be open about. Not yet, anyway. There was trust between them, but Piper knew it could run deeper. And if they stuck together, it probably would, in time. But on the surface, and even a little bit below it, they had already proven themselves to be a damn fine team. They had each other's backs, and neither of them minded getting into...

 _Huh_ , she thought. There was that word again.

Getting into _trouble_.

Nick's words derailed her train of thought. "So, you two ready to head back home?"

Sam and Piper shared sideways glances. One look at each other, and their eyes said everything. They were both ready.

 _"So_ ready," Piper answered. "But hey..."

The synth turned and looked at her directly. His amber neon eyes filled her with security, and pleasant memory. She was glad to have him back, and glad for the chance to be working with him again, the way she'd used to.

"Could, uh, could we just have a few minutes? To rest up and breathe, I mean." Even if they left right that instant, it would still be dark before they got in, so it didn't really matter if they stayed put for a few more minutes. That was the excuse she made for herself, anyway. The excuse to get a minute or two in private next to Blue.

Nick nodded, understanding more than Piper realized. "I'll go stand watch at the corner. Let you know if anything suspicious starts."

The detective walked out of earshot, and Piper scooted over next to Sam. They didn't need to hold hands this time. Proximity between them was starting to become enough.

Piper thought back to Nat's words, before they'd left. She furrowed her eyebrows in thought, and turned to face her friend.

"You _really do_ have a talent for finding trouble, don't you?"


	63. Chapter 63

The doctor coughed impatiently. "If you _please?_ Time is not our ally in these matters."

Sam looked over to her friend, not sure what to expect in answer. Some sort of comfort or reassurance. Heck, even just a stick of bubblegum. Something. Anything.

"Blue. You're gonna be okay. I'd trust Sun with my life."

 _More words_. But potent words. Words that meant a lot to hear.

"That's _Doc_ Sun!" he interjected. "And yes, you would. And _have_ , as I remember. Now please, _lie down."_

Sam nodded. She had to get this over with. No more dallying. No more words. They'd talked the whole way home, besides. But even so...

"Thanks." Her friend deserved _some_ sort of recognition for her assurances. She reached out and took her friend's hand briefly one last time, offering a gentle squeeze. It wasn't much. She wished she could do more.

She unbuckled her overcoat and folded it half-heartedly, then tossed it to a nearby chair. She seated herself on the gurney and took off her flannel shirt. What was left of it, anyway. The thing was filthy — coated in blood and torn to shreds, a grim reminder of the pain that she had suffered through. She dropped it to the floor without a second thought.

Piper took one look at her, and turned away. Sam couldn't blame her — after seeing her get shot, after seeing her bleed out, it didn't surprise her that the last thing she wanted to see was her bullet-riddled body.

But even for that, Piper had insisted on sticking around while Sam got treated, and she wasn't about to turn away the only friend she had. She'd meant her words from earlier. _I like having you close._

The doctor eyed her torso up and down. She knew he was just assessing her, but she couldn't help but feel exposed. "Need me to take the bra off too?" she asked with a slight, sarcastic eye-roll.

"That won't be necessary." His reply was curt, but honest. "Looks like your wounds are all below the ribcage. Nothing I haven't done before. We'll get this over quick."

He reached into a tool drawer beside him and rummaged for a moment. _Not exactly sterile procedure_ , Sam thought. But the Commonwealth lived by different standards. She still had to remind herself of that.

The doctor pulled out a syringe and tapped its side. The serum inside of it looked... purple? _Is that supposed to be Med-X?_ She was _not_ looking forward to being operated on with 200-year-old anesthetic.

For that matter, she wasn't looking forward to being injected with anything at all. She'd gotten her fair share of needles when she'd been young and stupid. That line of thinking was behind her. At least, she hoped it was.

She eased herself back onto the table and closed her eyes. "Please do. Please just get this over with."

She could feel the thin cold metal of the needle press into her skin. She bit her lip and tried to think of something, anything really, whatever she could find that would distract her from the present. Piper's face came to mind. _Sure, that'll do._

A tingly feel began to well up from within. At first, she couldn't tell what was causing it — the mental image of her friend, perhaps? She'd gotten butterflies before, when Piper had really done or said something extraordinary, but never from simply thinking of the woman.

But the sense of fuzziness began to spread across her body, along her limbs and up her spine, until it seemed to wrap itself around her mind. She found herself drifting — barely thinking, barely feeling. Some distant part of her wanted to open her eyes, to ask what was going on. But she was too tired to bother, and too relaxed to care.

Whatever that doc had slipped her, _it wasn't Med-X_.

* * *

"I think she's coming to."

Getting her eyes to open took work. Had she been asleep? She hadn't dreamt, and certainly hadn't had any sort of nightmare, which was a welcome change of pace.

Her vision started out a little blurry, but the doctor came into view, after a minute's blinking. He had the same stern frown as ever. Piper was there too. Her smile was clearly one of worry, more than joy. But it was still enough to make Sam want to smile back.

She could feel herself begin to even blush a little, as their eyes remained upon each other. She wanted to hide it, but _good luck with that_ , she told herself.

They helped her up. Doctor on one side, reporter on the other. She still felt quite disoriented, probably from whatever he had used to knock her out. But she was more surprised from what she didn't feel — _pain_.

She craned her neck, looking down and taking stock of her own body. A few red blotches where holes and bullets once had been. But otherwise, nothing. Not even scars.

"That is some _impressive_ work, doc."

"It helped that your wounds were still so fresh." He turned away from her and began to pack his tools. "Once your skin begins to regrow on its own, there's only so much I can do to change its course. Remember that, the next time you go and get yourself in trouble."

 _Point taken_. She got up off the operating table and worked to get her bearings back, trying to remember where her clothes had gone. One look at her ruined flannel on the floor and, _no, screw that_. She'd take it with her, but only as far as the nearest trash can.

She grabbed her overcoat instead and buckled it around her. The grey leather was cold against her skin already, and they were still inside. Stepping outside was not going to be fun, but the Dugout wasn't far from where they were.

Sam paid the doc his due in caps, and stepped outside, with Piper right behind her.


	64. Chapter 64

Blue was pretty enough when she was suited up for travel. But now, Piper had seen her with her shirt off, and it practically made her mad. She wasn't _attracted_ to Blue, but she couldn't deny that the woman _was attractive_.

They stepped out of the surgeon's room and into the cold and bitter night. Her friend had wrapped herself up in her drifter's jacket. It was far from flattering, but after seeing her on the operating table, Piper's imagination had gained annoyingly free reign.

 _Come on, Blue_ , she thought. _Say something. Get my mind off you. Please._

Samantha laughed — or coughed, she couldn't say for sure. "Well, Sun sure is a pleasant fellow, isn't he?"

 _Thank you._

"He's definitely a bit of a sore thumb, there's no denying that," she said. "But he's an incredible surgeon. Man lives and breathes his work. I wasn't kidding when I talked about him pulling me back from the brink."

Sam giggled. "Another gripping story of our intrepid reporter?"

Piper smirked, thinking back to the tales she'd shared on their way back to Diamond City. "So you liked those, huh?"

"I liked the part where you didn't die."

 _Is it just me, or did it just get less cold?_

They rounded the corner of the marketplace, her office briefly flitting past their field of view. It'd be nice to be back inside there soon, warming up in full, maybe talking to Nat, if she was still awake. But she could afford the extra minute's walk to drop her friend off at the Dugout first.

For a second, she had the wild thought to invite Samantha over. But no, Blue needed proper rest, and Nat would have a _thousand_ questions for her. She also knew too well that any shot she had at getting writing done that night would be lost, if Blue were there to distrac—

 _Ahem_ , to keep her company.

As they walked further down the avenue and towards the Dugout, she noticed Blue had taken on a subtle frown. Someone recently acquaintanced to the woman may well not have noticed. But Piper was starting to understand her on a deeper level. It wasn't often that she got to get so close with anyone she worked with. Or anyone at all, really. Most folks just avoided her. _Not that I can blame them_.

Still, she reached up and tapped the woman's head. "Yoo-hoo. Everything alright in there?"

The redhead shrugged. "Yeah. It's nothing."

Piper didn't buy her words for a second, but she was reluctant to press the matter. _That's not like you, Piper_.

She found herself searching for excuses. _Look, Blue's tired. It's been a rough day for both of us_. Had it seriously only been one day? The venture into the Vault alone had felt like an entire week. She thought back to how the walls had seemed to close in all around her, constricting her movements, even her thoughts. It hadn't been at all like she'd expected. She could see a lot more clearly now, why Blue had hated her time in 111 — though that was for plenty of other reasons, too.

Oh Blue. She was still so new and raw to life here in the Commonwealth. _I'd only make things worse if I asked her now._ Piper didn't want to over-press the matter and risk pushing her new friend away.

They _had_ gotten Nick back though, her other true and tested frield. Knowing he was back made everything better, and she couldn't help but smile from dwelling on the subject. Sam seemed to notice this, and smiled in return. It was nice to see that she could have some sway in Blue's emotions.

The door to the Dugout stood before them. Metal. Red. Familiar. Yet somehow uninviting, in that cold and bitter moment. This was where they parted ways.

"Well!" Piper stammered, breaking the silence. "Good, uh... good work today. Get some rest, huh? Meet up again sometime?"

Sam tilted her head and squinted at her. _Those damn eyes again_ — more silver than blue, with how they glimmered in the artificial light.

"Honestly, I was planning on coming over tomorrow, but if you'd rather I dont..."

"No! You can come over when... whenever, Blue. The Publick's always open to you. You know that, right?"

Now the redhead was literally just staring at her. _Wow, Piper. Way to dig yourself in even deeper than before. Good job._

It was Sam's turn to break the silence — this time with a soft, warm laugh. "Yeah, I think Nat made that clear the other night."

Piper felt her cheeks flush with warmth. She quickly tried to cover up her blushing by planting her face in one palm. "God, I should have warned you, she'll do _anything_ to get her hands on coffee. Sometimes I swear she's more of an adult than I am."

Blue patted her on the shoulder. "I'd call that a good thing, personally. I like kids."

"You're good with them, too." Piper looked back up at the woman with an earnest smile. "Thanks for looking after her while I was gone."

"Anytime," Sam answered. "Really."

For a minute, the chill around them seemed to go away. Piper wasn't blushing anymore — at least, not that she could feel. She was neither hot nor cold. She was just... there. _They_ were just there. Staring. Smiling. _We must look so stupid right now_ , she thought.

But for all she thought, she didn't _care_.

"Goodnight Blue."

It was hard to say, but she knew it was for the best.

Samantha smiled back. "Goodnight."

Piper turned and made her way back down the alley. It took more work than she'd expected, not to turn and look behind her. But she had an image to maintain. She had to stay professional _somehow_.

Still, she couldn't help but smile the entire way back home. Blue was a problem, but only sometimes. And really, she was the kind of problem Piper was willing to live with.


	65. Chapter 65

Samantha curled up tightly into bed. She was still chilled from their brief walk over from the surgery. Well, the walk itself had been brief, anyway.

Even with the sheets pulled close around her body, she was shivering. The inn itself was warm, but she still wasn't. The thought of paying for another bath had crossed her mind, but she was running low on caps already, and she still wanted to get herself some new clothes. And maybe some actually _useful_ body armor.

She stared down at the Pip-Boy riveted to her arm. Again, she considered playing it. The tape. The tape from Nate. But it was in her pack, on the far side of the room. At that distance, it might as well have still been back in Sanctuary Hills.

And besides — this life, with its hardships, were for her to figure out. Not him. He wasn't there. He never would be.

 _He isn't coming back_.

In a way, she still could not believe it. She talked about him so much, and thought about him so much more. It was almost like he still was there, somehow, inside of her.

 _You have to stop this._

 _You can't keep leaning on his memory forever, Red. He wouldn't want that, and you shouldn't either. You've got to make a new life for yourself out here, wherever you can find it_.

She hadn't seen a whole lot of the... _Commonwealth_... yet. But from what she had seen, Diamond City was as good a place to put down roots as she was likely to find. It was safe, secure, and mostly warm. She even had a couple of friends, or at least acquaintances. Doc Sun had all the bedside manner of a stimpak, but he was twenty times as capable as one. Abbot was old, and sometimes grouchy, but he cared for her sincerely. Arturo was a businessman at heart, but at least he was willing to be sincere with her _while_ he also robbed her of her caps.

Piper didn't count. That was what she told herself. They were friends, sure, but they were also becoming _more_ than friends — what, exactly, she couldn't find the words for. Confidants? Traveling companions? Partners in crime? Whatever the details, the reporter was on Sam's mind enough already as it was.

Who did that leave? Was she missing anybody? Ah yes, the detective.

 _Synthetic man._ She played the phrase out quietly across her lips. Not _robot_ , she noted. _Synth_. It was an interesting choice of lingo to say the least. She couldn't say for sure it was deliberate, but it seemed that way. It certainly seemed fitting, too. Codsworth had demonstrated surprising personality for a Mr Handy, and she'd remembered hearing similar stories from her friends and family.

But Nick was above and beyond even the most elaborate of former-world machines. His intelligence was... human, at least. And his emotions certainly seemed human, too. If his body had not been such a giveaway, she may well have never guessed.

It was odd, curious, almost contradictory. Everything she'd heard about synths — from Piper, from Nat, from that crazed shopkeeper next to Arutro... _what was her name again?_ — it all made them sound so bad. She thought back to the hospital, after she had tended to Piper's leg. The woman had been scared, heck, _terrified_ , of the synths they'd narrowly dodged notice of.

But not Nick. Nick was welcomed, even _wanted_. She couldn't help but wonder, would she have been so apt to risk her life and limb to recover this Nick Valentine, if she had known from the beginning what he was?

She tossed and turned in bed a bit, staring up at the dim-lit ceiling.

Probably? She was certainly glad to have him back now, at any rate.

Maybe not all synths were bad? Just most?

There was still so much about the new wold Sam had yet to learn.

Maybe it was the agency that mattered, more than the agent. This Institute she kept hearing about, for instance. They sounded like bad group of bad people, to put it lightly. Sam wondered if they were related to the old C.I.T. of yester-life. It didn't seem too far-fetched of a possibility.

And to think that she had almost gone there. She could still remember Nate's words of encouragement. He'd always said he saw it in her— saw her potential to become a scientist. That vote of confidence had meant a lot to her. More than she had ever let him know.

But she liked working with people, more than she liked trying to solve entire systems. Maybe she would have made a good mechanic, working with specific problems. But social pressure had forced her to get a job that paid, over a job she would have loved. And law didn't seem that bad. At least, it hadn't at the time.

She laughed to herself at the irony. _If only they could see me now_. In that old world, her old life, everything had been ruled by the power of coin and bill. She wondered what the monetary value was to being able to sweep someone's legs out from under them with a sledgehammer. Or being able to hack a terminal. Or pick a lock.

So much had been lost in the nuclear war. She missed a bit of it. But far from most of it.

She rolled over in her bed, musing on things unknowable. What if she had gone to C.I.T.? She could well have been on campus, working on some project, when the bombs had fallen. She never would have made it to the Vault. Never would have traveled so far into the future. She would have died two centuries ago. The way that she'd been meant to.

She lay in silence for a while. In a way, she wished that no one had survived the War. It would have made things simpler.

Rolling over, Sam buried her face in her pillow, waiting for the tears to come.


	66. Chapter 66

Nat was lost on some runaway train of thought. Piper knew the look too well.

"So _you_ think Lady isn't scared of the Institute because she hasn't seen what they can do yet, right? But what if that's not it! What if she's not scared because she's from before the war! What if she's, like..." she trailed off, turning to look high and low around the room, like she was searching for an example, or a runaway word. Finally, she threw her hands up in defeat.

"I don't know, like what if she's _immune_ to them or something! Like, they can't hurt her, so she isn't scared!"

If Piper had been drinking anything in that moment, it may well have come out through her nose from laughter. _Guess I'm glad I didn't grab a Nuka-Cola after all._

"Natalie," she did her best to put on a scolding tone. "Have you been reading Grognak again?"

Nat furrowed her eyebrows instantly. "No!" she declared. But Piper saw right through her words, and she saw that Nat could see it for herself. "M- maybe..." her face softened, and she fidgeted in place.

 _"Naaat..."_

The girl's voice dropped to a soft mumble. "Only up to issue 57."

Piper rested a hand against her forehead and closed her eyes. "God, Nat, what am I going to do with you? I haven't even read that far."

"Wait, you haven't?! Oh my god, sis, you know how back in the last volume they—"

"NO SPOILERS!" Piper's words were so loud and her movements so fast, she made her sister jump. She held a single finger up against the young girl's lips, and that was the end of that. "One word about anything past issue 38, and you're grounded."

Nat's face turned defensive again. "You can't—!"

"I can, and I have. _"_ Piper got up and walked across the room, slowly putting her things away in their respective lockers. "And I will again, if you blow my favorite series."

Nat groaned so loudly, Piper turned to make sure the printing press' new motor hadn't somehow started by itself. She shook her head and chuckled quietly. "You're somethin' else, Nat. And I love you for it. Never change."

For a couple of minutes, Nat offered no response at all, which was nothing new for her. The girl never did seem to know her way around a compliment.

"So what happened next, sis?"

And there she was again, _always curious_ , just like Piper had taught her to be. She hadn't even done it on purpose, her attitude just... rubbed off on the girl, she guessed. How could it _not_ , with Piper sharing stories all the time?

"We got to the Vault. Vault... 114, I think it was? Not sure what the number signifies, but, there you have it."

There wasn't much left in her backpack from their trip to 114, so unpacking it took very little time. She headed upstairs to get undressed. Nat kept talking anyway — this was nothing new between them. Piper couldn't begin to count the number of times they'd chatted through the floorboards.

 _"Well_ , what was it _like_ in there?"

Piper leaned both hands against the upstairs dresser and closed her eyes. She'd seen the question coming a mile away, but she was still no closer to an answer that would satisfy. Things like the Institute, she was willing to ham up around her sister. But the shootouts? The violence? Blue at death's door? That was too much. That was where she drew the line.

"Sis?"

"It was, uh... plain."

She tossed her trench coat aside and worked on taking off her under-layers. Laundry tomorrow, she told herself. That was when she heard the loud, deliberate stomps of her sister coming up the stairs. Piper turned to look, and there Nat was, staring at her from the topmost step.

"It was _plain?"_

"Nat!" she retorted. "I'm changing. Do you mind?!"

The girl rolled her eyes and turned to go back down. Piper frowned. She had gotten changed in front of Nat before. It wouldn't have been anything she hadn't seen countless times already, just...

Taking off her undershirt, she couldn't help but look down and sigh. How could her figure compete with Blue's?

 _"Plain..."_

The repeated word brought Piper back out of her head. "Yes," she snapped back. "It was plain, and old, and cramped. You would have hated it."

"Not falling for it, sis!" Nat's tone of voice was lilting, almost teasing. "You just don't want me to go and see it for myself, someday. But don't worry, I will! 114!"

Piper closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Let it go, she told herself. Arguing will only make it worse.

Her sister took the silence as a chance to continue talking. "Lady was with you, wasn't she?"

She opened her eyes again. "So what if she was?"

"So that's a yes. Great! I'll ask her about it, too."

It was Piper's turn to groan in defeat. "Fine, you do that." Maybe Blue could knock some sense into her that she herself could not.

She switched off the upstairs lights and curled up into her bed, pulling the covers close around her. The chill of winter was starting to finally seep in through the metal walls. She made a mental note to check their caps supply tomorrow, see if they could afford to switch their heating unit on.

"Hey, sis?"

She rolled over in bed and sighed. "Yes?"

"Lady. She really was with you, right?"

Piper sat partway up, bracing herself against the bed with one arm. Nat's tone — it had changed again. The teasing in her voice had been replaced with honesty.

"Yeah, Nat. Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure. Lady's a good person. She's good for both of us, but especially for you. I'm glad she had your back out there."

A sudden chill shot up Piper's spine. She fell back down onto her bed without a word.

She hadn't gotten goosebumps in a long, long time.


	67. Chapter 67

"You really think Travis could change?"

"Hard to say," Vadim admitted with a shrug. "But I am sure, his voice _must_ be able to be more than that... that _squawk."_ He raised his hands above his head and shook them, pitching his own voice up into a sharp falsetto. "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! AHH!"

Sam found herself laughing, if also feeling bad about it. She didn't mean to laugh at Travis' expense. _At least there's no one in the bar right now but us._

She quelled her laugh into a simple smile. How the man managed to stay so cheerful was beyond her. Had he missed the fact that the entire world had ended? That everything had died? _Guess it must be different for him. For all of them._ _They never got to see how much was lost_. Still, she enjoyed the company, and the satire. And the drink.

"Seriously, Vadim, this stuff is amazing. _Tea and whiskey_. Why did I never think of this myself?" Normally, even one drink this early in the day would have been verboten. But screw it — it was the apocalypse, Sam could do what she wanted. And the way this whisk-tea warmed her up just felt so _good_. She forgot about her worries from the night before, about the tear stains she had left on her pillow or the tape she'd almost played. The only thing that could have made her situation better, would have been for Piper to to be by her side.

Vadim leaned in on the counter with one arm. "Perhaps that's why I'm bartender, hmm? But seriously now, to business!"

Sam set the mug down reluctantly. "Business?"

He gave a stern nod. "Travis could be so much more. I see this in him. The _boy_ must become a _man!_ You agree, and so, you help!"

She blinked. "Why me? What can I do to make a difference?"

Grumbling, Vadim reached down under the counter and pulled out a... paper? It looked to be the latest issue of Publick Occurrences. ' _View from th—' oh_.

"Do you _know_ who you are?" he asked insistently. "Do you think I haven't seen the way you come in every other night?"

Sam was lost for a moment in admiring Piper's prose. She felt bad — for all the time she spent with the paper's singular reporter, she hadn't read much of her work.

She looked up from the paper, back at Vadim. His eyes were squinted, as though assessing her, or seeing deep into some truth of her she couldn't even tell was there.

"You are _fighter_ , though perhaps you do not see it yet yourself." His tone lent an otherworldly air to the conversation. Sam continued sipping on her tea.

"Fighting spirit. This is what Travis needs. You will bring it out in him. I have plan, _fool-proof plan_ to make this happen!"

She set the mug back down again and raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was the whiskey in her talking, but she found herself warming up to the idea. _Really, all this is about is helping someone, right? That's what we do, right Piper?_

"Alright Vadim," she said — squinting her own eyes back at him, in turn. "Tell me about this plan of yours."

* * *

The tea had worn off. The morning had moved on. Sam had no idea what kind of trouble Vadim had talked her into, but that was something for her to deal with as it came.

"How's it going in there?"

She was, honestly, a little cramped for space. This 'changing room' wasn't much more than a broom closet with a mirror. _Fallon's Basement. What a name_.

 _"Hello?"_ The shopkeeper knocked impatiently on the door, causing the walls to shudder and debris to fall loose from the ceiling. Sam tussled her hair a bit to get the chunks of dust off, and coughed out a reply.

"Sorry, it's going great! I think I have a winner!" She was fairly happy with the outfit she had pulled together. A new flannel — worn and practical, but surprisingly soft for its sturdiness. She'd also found a beige overcoat that fit her, not as bulky as her current one. _I could fit some armor over this, right?_ She'd grabbed a scarf as well — torn short at one end, but still enough to wrap around her neck. She didn't know if seasons still existed in the way that she remembered them, but the days were definitely starting to get chilly, and Samantha _hated_ being cold.

She stepped back out and made arrangements to pay for the new outfit. It felt nice, being able to actually _buy_ something, rather than looting and stealing all the time. It felt less nice when she realized she was ten caps short of being able to afford it all.

The woman frowned, looked up at Sam, and sighed. "Tell you what, trade me that old grey jacket of yours, and I'll call it even."

 _Wasn't gonna use it anyway_. She handed over the coat, and they shook hands. "Thanks so much, Becky."

"Just don't think you're getting off easy next time!" she called out as Sam stepped through the door. The marketplace had started to gain its usual bustle. The sun was unusually bright and warm.

 _I wonder if Piper's up yet_. She could use the woman's company — and her support, if they were going to see Nick.

A short walk over revealed that Natalie, at least, was wide awake. Perched on a soapbox, waving a paper in her hand.

"Mornin' Nat!" she said as she approached. "You're up early."

"Paper doesn't sell itself, Lady!"

Sam couldn't help but smile. "Hey, is, uh... is your sister up? Could I go in?"

"Don't know!" Nat hopped off from her stand and smiled at her. "Wanna go investigate?"

Sam blinked, bemused by the girl's enthusiasm. "Sure Nat, lead the way."

 _"Paper on break!"_ Nat yelled to no one in particular. She then reached up and grabbed Sam's hand, leading her inside.


	68. Chapter 68

_"Mmmmm..."_

Piper could feel her entire body ache as she returned to it. She'd been having such a _sweet_ dream, too. The details were already fading from her mind. She couldn't even remember who'd been in it with her. There had been _someone_ , though.

Stumbling out of bed, she rubbed the grit from her eyes and looked around the room. Everything was as it had been, as it should be. It was nice for nothing to be wrong for once.

Except for maybe her tench coat. Just as dirty as she'd left it. Maybe she could get away with one more day before it really needed washing. Soap and hot water didn't come cheap, after all.

For now, she stuck to her pajamas — panties and an oversized shirt. _She_ thought she looked cute in it. It just wasn't the sort of thing she'd wear in public.

But even the thought of changing was enough to make her want to crawl back into bed. Everything still ached, her muscles, her leg... heck, even her head. Yesterday had been a tiring day. She couldn't imagine how it must be for Blue.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a smell — a really good and savory smell, at that. "Nat?" she called. "Are you down there? Are you _cooking?"_

The girl's voice came bouncing back up through the floorboards. "Yep! Morning, sis!"

Piper pressed a couple of fingers against her temple. "Don't you have _school?"_

She looked back over to her real clothes. _Screw it_. She headed downstairs just the way she was.

"Sis, it's the _weekend_. Did you _forget?"_

She rubbed her eyes again as she went. _Was it really?_ So much had been on her mind lately. Individual days had become so long, of late. Yet they also seemed to blur together, slip her by. "Huh, I guess I did. Figures that—"

But then she touched down on the floor, and opened her eyes, to see who was sitting on their couch and staring at her.

Her reaction was rushed and meek. "Blue!"

She spun and darted back upstairs as fast as she could make herself. Her whole body ran hot with embarrassment. Her sister's youthful laughter seemed to echo through the metal walls.

"Don't mind sis, Lady! Sometimes her body wakes up before the rest of her does. I'm sure she'll be back down."

Piper stared up at the ceiling pleadingly. _Tell me this is some stupid dream. Tell me my best friend did not just see me like this_. Of course, no answer came. A sigh welled up inside of her.

She gathered up her prior day's attire. _Guess I'd better wear you after all_. After all the sweat and blood shed yesterday, it lacked its usual comfort. But it was the best she had. Everything else of hers was even dirtier. She'd put the laundry off again, and got exactly what she deserved.

Bra. Pants. Shirt that _fit_. Socks. Boots. Coat. Gloves. Pens. Notebook. Hat — _wait, hair first_. _Did Natalie steal the hairbrush again?_ _Sigh_. This was not the time to get back into that argument, though. She settled for giving her hair a quick finger-brushing before pulling on her press cap. She wrapped her scarf around her neck in the usual manner, too — all part of the outfit, all part of the _image_.

As for the coat itself, Piper gave the belt an extra tug. Couldn't hurt to cinch it up a little extra, right?

She tossed her hair back and put on the best professional face she could. This was nothing new. She'd been thrown into more important things on shorter notice. _I got this_. And so she headed back downstairs.

 _Smile, Piper._ "Morning!"

Their eyes met again. Samantha simply smiled back.

She hadn't really looked the woman over, earlier. "You sure look different. New clothes, huh?"

"Thought I'd check out the local Fallon's while I was in town." Blue laughed a little at her own remark. Piper quirked an eyebrow, but let the matter go. _Probably some pre-war in-joke_.

She turned and walked to her sister next — standing on a footstool, pan in one hand and tongs in the other. "Nat?"

"Lady's teaching me to cook!" The young girl smiled, but kept her eyes fixed on her cooking. Piper was more than mildly surprised. Nat was _never_ this focused.

"And I mean, _really_ cook!" she continued. "Like how folks cooked back in _her_ day. Ain't that right, Lady?"

Sam set down her mug of tea and came over to inspect. "Well, that depends on how good you are at following instructions, doesn't it?"

Piper watched in awe as they talked and worked together. _How does she do it?_ Blue was so incredibly good with kids.

Kids.

 _Shaun_.

Piper left the two of them to their little project and went to sit down on the couch herself. She knew that they should go see Nick this morning. She was just a little worried, for how it might upend Samantha's mood. She looked back over at her, watching how she laughed alongside Nat. _She seems so happy. I wish it could stay this way forever_.

Nat hopped down off her stool. Blue helped her split the breakfast into thirds. _What a team they made_.

Sam came back over, handing Piper a plate before sitting down on the couch's opposite end, still facing her. Nat took a quick look at the space between them, and sat down on the coffee table instead.

Piper was almost ready to complain, but then she took a bite of food. All other thoughts and worries vanished in an instant. Maybe part of it was from how tired, how hungry and beat she was from yesterday, but still...

"Nat," she said, mouth still half-full. "This is _really good."_

Nat cheered. Blue smiled. They high-fived. Piper sighed and smiled, too.

They'd have to go see Nick, and soon. But in this one moment, they were safe. All was well.

She made careful effort to remember it.


	69. Chapter 69

_Kellogg_ had a name now, and it held to her lips like a stain of blood. _If names alone could kill..._

Nick led the way out of his office. Sam followed in his wake, and Piper followed her in turn, counting out a small tin-full of caps. The clink of improvised coin made her think back to the their transaction. The whole ordeal still felt backwards to her.

"Valentine... I'm _your_ client. Shouldn't I be paying _you?"_

"Think of it as an investment." The synth tugged on his hat a little, pulling it slightly down to block the midday sun. "It's not exactly like you have caps of your own to front right now, from what I've gathered. Besides, after what you did to break me out? What _you_ risked? It only seems a little fair."

Piper jumped into the conversation. "Nicky, _this much_ though?"

The reporter double-timed a couple steps to catch up with Samantha. Their eyes met. "Blue, with this, you could afford to..." But she cut herself short. Her whole expression sharpened. "I'll be back."

And she was off, turning left towards the marketplace while Sam and Valentine went right.

"You sure that's wise?" Nick asked. "Letting another dame run off with your hard-earned cash?"

"I trust her." The sentence fell out of her almost reflexively. "And what would you know about _cash_ , anyway?""

"Nothing you wouldn't think I don't."

Sam had to stop midstep, trying to parse the double — no, _triple?_ — negative. She caught herself squinting at him — confused, but also curious.

He turned to face her. His face was deadpan, same as it always was. "Breaking into an apartment in broad daylight can be a tricky proposition." His voice was low and had the texture of smoke. Or, maybe that was just the cigarette he'd lit up in his office, earlier. "Stealth will do nothing for us here, and there's no guarantee we wouldn't be found out under cover of night, anyhow. Our best bet is to just go up there and act like we own the place."

She nodded. "Suits me. Sneaking's never been my strong suit."

"Fair enough" was all she got for a reply.

They made their way up the steps. Silence around Valentine was still a little awkward; _everything_ around him was still a little awkward. Nick, meanwhile, didn't seem to mind at all. _Figures, being part-machine_.

They came up to the entrance to the house. _His_ house. She knew his name, but that didn't make it any easier to use it, or think about him, period. In another time, another place, Sam might have tried to kick the door in with a raging cry. But exhaustion got the better of her. She was still sore from yesterday, and knew that today would end up being messy in its own right, thanks to the machinations of a certain bartender.

Nick tried his best to get the door to open — picking at the lock with his robotic hand, checking for hinge points or other bits that they could disassemble. He even tried to swipe the lock-bolt open with a business card. That trick had been old when _Sam_ had been young! But she didn't mean to mock his attempts, however vain. After all, he was doing this for her sake. That meant a lot. More than she felt comfortable saying.

"Mind if I try?" was the best she _could_ get herself to say.

The detective stepped back and they swapped places. She tried her best to make the door comply, but it was...

"Finnicky, isn't it?"

"You can say that again," she answered. "Not that know what I'm actually doing here..."

Her hands were clumsier than usual in the cold, and the lock refused to give her anything to work with. In a way, it felt like how her talks had gone with Valentine — he was clearly there, clearly taking in what she was putting out. But she got no response. No _feedback_. At least, none that she was sensitive enough to notice, let alone to work with.

That idea of trying to kick the door in was starting to seem a bit less wild. Anything would be better than trying to pick _this_.

As if on cue, the bobby pin snapped in her fingers. She shoved herself away from the knob, stumbling to her feet and clenching her fists. She could almost picture Kellogg taunting her.

Nick walked over to her, as someone might if they were about to put a reassuring hand upon one's shoulder. But he didn't. He just stood there, looking at her.

"I know this can be trying, but there are other ways to make this work." His words were lacked in emotion, but Samantha did her best to believe him intellectually. She might have opened her mouth in response, but got distracted as a certain red trench coat blipped into her peripheral vision.

"That's one hell of a smirk you're wearing, Piper."

"I might have just arranged a deal or two on your behalf." There was a fire in her eyes — something Nick's distinctly lacked. "But we can talk about that later. So, what'd I miss?"

Nick started grumbling again. "Whole lot of nothin', to put it plain. The lock on that door there beat the both of us."

 _"Tsk tsk..."_ Piper shook her head, chuckling. "I'm disappointed, Blue!"

"Hey now," he interrupted. "Leave her be. She's had a rough enough time as it is."

Sam waved him off. "It's alright, Valentine." She knew her friend had only meant it as a playful jab. She welcomed the teasing. There was something refreshingly raw about it.

Piper smiled at her understanding. "So, what does that leave, then? I don't think security would much appreciate it if we blasted the door open."

"Don't think I didn't let it cross my circuits," the synth retorted. "There is one diplomatic possibility that comes to mind! But you're not going to like it."

Piper raised her eyebrows. Samantha did the same.


	70. Chapter 70

"No. We can't ask him."

They were making their way back down the steps from Kellogg's house. Piper was confused, to put it mildly — and the way Nick looked at her suggested he found Sam's answer just as unexpected. It had taken some time, but she had learned to read the synth's emotions. They were subtle, but they were there.

Blue, meanwhile, was usually a woman willing to take risks. It was one of the things she admired in her. Something was amiss here. "Why not?"

The redhead turned and looked at her. Was there fear in her eyes? No, something else. Sympathy? Compassion?

"Neither of us are exactly on _good_ terms with the mayor right now. You especially, Piper. I put you on thin enough ice just by showing up. The last thing I want to do is risk getting you and Nat in trouble more."

"Still couldn't hurt to look into it yourself," Nick countered. Piper was too busy taking in her friend's concerns, to answer. _Blue, you're the reason I got back into Diamond City. Do you seriously feel like you're a burden on me?_

The detective feigned a cough. "Anyway, I'm going to head back to the office. See if Ms. Perkins and I can pull together any other files on our man."

Sam waved to him faintly as he turned down a separate alley. "Good luck Nick! Thanks..."

They stepped a little closer to each other as the two of them continued walking. Piper could tell that something wasn't right.

"Blue, what's going on, really?"

Sam sighed. "Ask me later?"

"Sure," she said. _Fine. Be mysterious._

"Well, whatever the motive, you don't want to go asking McDonough for help. I mean, I don't mind. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it myself... but where does that leave us?"

"I could try picking it again."

"Blue..." she had to resist the urge to facepalm. "Don't get me wrong... but you've _tried_ that, and that lock is just beyond you."

"Maybe I just need practice. Try with something a little more forgiving. Work my way up!"

"How? Where?"

Their eyes met. Piper blinked.

"You're joking."

* * *

She shut the door and clicked it into place. _You're ridiculous, Blue. I have I told you that lately?_

"Alright!" she called out through the walls. "Give it another go!"

She walked out through the Publick's _other_ doorway and came to join her good friend on the other side.

But Sam was getting fast at this — faster than Piper had imagined possible. This time, she'd gotten the door open before they could even strike up conversation.

"Well!" she laughed. "Guess you'll never have an excuse not to visit, now, will ya?"

Blue responded with a half-hearted grin. She pocketed her screwdriver and closed the door shut again, turning to lean her back against it. "There's only so much I can teach myself from working on the same set of pins."

Piper nodded slowly. She couldn't pick a lock herself, for all that she had tried to learn, but the woman's words made sense to her.

Her friend continued. "I need to try a whole bunch of locks. At least, that's how I think this works. See how different tumblers work, y'know? I need _breadth,"_ she gestured with her hands for emphasis, "not _depth."_

The reporter couldn't help but smile. "You talk about this like you've been studying it your whole life."

"I took a generalist's education, before I went to law school." Sam stood herself up slowly, still leaning against the door. "Learn _how_ to learn, and all that. Honestly, law was something of a second choice. Life back then... it wasn't always easy to do what you loved."

She nodded. "Sure know that feel. Never would have imagined it in your time, though. You had _everything."_

"No." Sam shook her head. "We had _too much."_

Her eyes went out of focus. Piper had seen this look on her before, and knew it well. She was looking back through time, back into a world where Piper couldn't follow. Where every frame of reference she had ever learned was wrong.

 _You're so human, Blue. Sometimes I lose track of what you truly are._

She gave her friend a gentle poke. "Hey, forget it. If you don't like that past, put it behind you. Goodness knows the rest of us have."

Samantha blinked herself back into the present. "Sorry."

"Welcome back," she taunted. The way Sam thought so grimly about life before the war, it always _got_ to Piper, somehow.

Blue managed to produce a quiet chuckle. "So what do you think? Maybe we could go for another trip around town? Look for some safes or lockboxes for me to try my hand at?" The redhead turned to face her head-on, smirking. "Y'know, get into trouble, and all that."

Piper raised one eyebrow. _"Trouble_ , huh? I can think of a town you might enjoy..." She took a few steps away from the office and looked up at the sky. "Sun's starting to get low, but we could make it there by nightfall, if we pulled our things together quickly."

She walked back up to her friend, and placed her hands on the woman's shoulders. They locked eyes.

"You sure you're up for this, though? You sure that you're recovered?"

"I feel fine!" Sam bickered back, shaking herself free of the reporter's focus. "Honestly, staying here too long would just leave me feeling cooped up. I like the adventures we go on."

 _Not gonna hear any arguments from me on that one, Blue_.

"Well, should we, uh... should we get ready to go?"

"I think so? Wait, I nearly forgot!" Blue snapped her fingers, and took a quick look at her Pip-Boy, before sighing with relief. "Alright, there's still time. Vadim and I... we..."

Their eyes met again. Sam looked a little nervous. "I... I need to go get into a barfight, real quick."

Piper _stared_ at Blue. Her face was utterly expressionless.

 _"What?"_


	71. Chapter 71

Samantha leaned back into the couch and massaged her knuckles, still hurting from where Bull had crushed them in his own hand. _Figures that he'd catch my fist mid-swing_. She should have expecting nothing less from a hired thug.

 _Tried to warn you, Vadim_. The barfight had been outside her comfort zone, from start to finish.

But it had worked. Against all her better judgements, Travis _had_ in fact come out with a more confident tone. He'd been the one to actually kick Bull out of the bar. Or at least, that was where things seemed to be heading. Most of the fight had gone by like a blur, but she distinctly remembered Piper taking her by the arm and dragging her out at the end. _"I think our work is finished here."_ Even in the haze of the moment, her frustrated undertone had been apparent, though Sam was still unsure where it had come from.

The door to her friend's home and office suddenly opened, and after a moment's pause, Piper stepped inside. She had some manner of equipment draped over one arm, and a sledgehammer slung across her shoulder, held up by the opposing hand.

Sam felt multiple things at once. First, happiness — a small involuntary smile happening across her face. But also a tinge of worry, that the reporter might still be upset with her. And lastly, she felt confusion, at what _Piper_ was doing with a melee weapon. Unless it was meant for her? Was that what she had spent her caps from Nick on?

Piper kicked the door shut behind her, and dropped off her new acquisitions. She walked over to Samantha's side. "Still hurting?"

She sighed and admitted to a nod. "Slightly."

"I'll get you some ice." Her words were direct, lacking in their usual warm flair. She opened her fridge door and rummaged inside. Sam felt bad, sitting here while her friend did all this work.

"I can take care of myself, Piper!"

"You sure 'bout that?" She pulled something out of the fridge and came back over, sitting down on the couch beside her. "Here, rub this on your hand."

Sam stared at the ice cube. "Just... this?"

Piper blinked. "What, is... is this not what you did back in your day?"

"No, it's fine!" Sam laughed a little, trying to make light of things. "Back in my day? We would have taken a little bruise like this a _lot_ more seriously."

Her friend did not return the laugh. She sighed. "What's wrong, Piper?"

 _"You"_ she answered coldly, crossing her arms. "Look, I'm all for trying to help others. You want to make Travis feel more confident? Great. But using _violence_ to solve his problems? Getting yourself beat up along the way? Heck, all the time?"

Sam instinctively took the defensive. "Oh, yeah. That's why you just went and bought me a new hammer, right?"

"I never said that was for you!" They each stared the other down for a moment, until Piper relented. "Okay, fine... it _is_ for you... but for use out on the road, Blue! Not here in Diamond City. Not under the protection of the Wall. What you started in the Dugout, that was—"

"A _mock-up_. That's what that was. A facade, machinated by Vadim. I _told_ you that on our way in, remember? And you're one to talk, the way you sometimes go running and yelling into a firefight."

 _"Sometimes!"_ she shapped back. "When I know I can't help it. When there's _no_ way out but to fight. I'll get into a battle when I know it's the only thing left to save me. To save _us_. It's a last resort, Blue. Not a way of life."

Samantha grimaced. _I'm not going to win with her on this_. And, honestly, she did largely agree with what her friend was saying. Maybe she'd do well to change the subject, turn things positive.

"I do like that fighting spirit in you."

The fire in Piper's eyes immediately began to die down, unprepared for the compliment. "Heh, thanks... you too." She shifted her eyes to dodge Sam's gaze, breathing, thinking. After a moment's peace, she reached into her pocket. "Gum?"

Sam caught herself smiling again, and reached out a cold, wet hand. "Sure. Thanks."

They each sat and chewed for a minute. There was a definite sting to the gum — _residual rads_ , she figured — but the extra bit of pain was worth it. Worth the opportunity to share in something nice, together.

 _She means well_. For the world, and for the two of them. It had been a long time since she'd met someone who genuinely cared as much as Piper Wright.

The reporter spoke first.

"I guess... Travis _did_ feel pretty good about himself by the end there. Once we had Bull on the ground, and all."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Nice move with that empty bottle, by the way."

"You think? I got the idea out of an old comic! Had no idea if it would work." She stood up, smirking, and started walking around the room, cleaning up and gathering various items. "And, maybe a _little_ inspiration from somebody I'm close with. She's stronger than you'd think, close-range."

Now Sam was the one to shift her gaze. Had it been this warm in here the entire time?

"Speaking of..." Sam got up and went over to inspect the newly purchased hammer. "Piper, this is incredible. Were you seriously able to afford all this with just the caps Nick gave me?"

"Sorry, can't hear you!"

Piper was halfway up the stairs, and darted the last bit of the way up. Sam rolled her eyes and turned back to the weapon, testing its weight. The balance felt a little different than the one they'd picked up in the Vault. This one felt... easier to control, somehow. She didn't have the right vocabulary to describe what was different.

Or maybe she just felt more confident this time around. Difficult to say.


	72. Chapter 72

Piper continued to pack upstairs. _This'll be a shorter trip_ , she told herself. _A more peaceful trip._ She might normally have put these thoughts into words, but she still wasn't sure what Blue would think about that — having a friend who talked to herself as much in private as in public. At least, when she wasn't being cripplingly self-conscious.

 _We won't get into any big fights this time_. But, staring at the stimpaks resting on her bedside table, she decided to pack them anyway. Just in case. A "peaceful" trip through the Commonwealth only meant so much. Perhaps the difference would have been more profound if she had lived in Blue's day, rather than vice-versa. Oh, what it would be like, to be able to leave the city's Walls and walk to Goodneighbor, and have absolutely _nothing_ go wrong in-between.

Maybe that was part of why Blue kept getting them into such hot messes. She still did not expect the world to be against them at every turn. In her day, people hadn't had to scrounge and fight for food, water, shelter, warmth... life. They'd had so much back then. _"Too much,"_ in her friend's own words. That was easy for _her_ to say.

Samantha Red was naive, and brash, and she took risks. _As if you don't, Piper?_ She was hopeful, energetic, and sarcastic in a pinch. But above all else, she was strong when it came down to things that mattered. Her quiet, slow determination to someday be reunited with her son. The fresh perspective she brought to Commonwealth life. So many stories about the world that once existed — reflecting too, perhaps, a world that could yet be.

She was a light where so much of the Commonwealth had given in to darkness. _I'm so glad to have you in my life, Blue. Even when you make a mess of things. You have no idea how much good you do for me._

Damned if she'd allow herself to say something like that out loud, though. She had to find a way to coat the sentiment, to make it seem less sappy. More... teasing.

She called downstairs to her friend. "You cause a stir on our trip downtown this time, and I might have to change your name to _Trouble_ , Blue!"

A muffled, grumbled "You do that" was all she got for a response, as though Sam were busy doing something. Piper headed downstairs to investigate, dropping her satchel of supplies off with everything else she had already gathered on the lower floor.

It took real work to restrain her laughter. Blue was wrestling with the chestplate she had gotten her — and while she had the right _idea_ on how to put it on, she was going about the application of it all completely wrong.

The redhead furrowed her eyes at her. "Feel like helping me through this mess? Or am I just that funny of a sight?"

"Sorry!" She took a step closer and started doing what she could. "Jeez, Blue. All the straps are still cinched tight. No wonder you can't get it on. Hold up, let me loosen these..."

She took another small step, closing the gap between the two of them in full. _This would've been so much easier if we'd done it before you put it on_. But she wasn't about to complain out loud. Not any more than she already had.

She had to wrap her arms around her friend more than once to reach an awkwardly positioned buckle. A quiet hung between them. There was nothing new to that — they were more than comfortable in each other's company. Though, in the quiet, her wandering mind began to take a conscious note of how close they were to one another. _Stop that. Don't blush. Just get this finished._

"Alright! There we go." She stepped back and admired her friend. Blue looked good in basic body armor. "How do you feel?"

Sam looked down at herself, turning a little this way and that. "It'll take some getting used to."

"Better than another chest-full of lead though, right?" Piper turned and went back to assembling the last of her things. _Try not to overpack this time_ , she told herself.

"And what're you up to?" she heard her friend inquire.

"Packing! To go to that nearby town I mentioned? Goodneighbor? Great place to get up to no good. Here in Diamond City, you do something questionable, guards take you in for questioning. Out there, you break the rules, they... break your nose. Or something like that. Eye-for-an-eye, you know the type. But hey, _stimpaks_ , right?"

"Sounds charming."

Piper stood up and slung the pack over her shoulder. "Oh, it's definitely that. _Lots_ of ghouls there. No city ordinance against them, like what McDonough ordered here." Her voice dropped to a growl. "But don't get me started on that, or we'll never make it out of the office."

Blue smirked. "Hey, I wouldn't object to an evening hanging out together. Just the two of us."

"Neither would I." Piper was taken aback by the honesty of her own response. _Stop that..._

She turned away before the woman's smile gave her butterflies. _You're such a good friend, Blue. Why do you make me feel this way?_

She pulled out a notebook and a pen, and quickly scribbled Nat a note. She stepped gingerly into her sister's room, and tucked the sheet of paper beneath her teddy bear. "Stay," she whispered. _And now I'm talking to toys._

"So!" She did her best to present a strong, confident front as she stepped back out to address her friend. "You ready to hit the road? Unless... you've changed your mind, and really do feel like you should rest here for a little while..."

"No, I think I still feel up for it." Blue reached over and grabbed her newly acquired hammer. What a sight she was. The warrior out of time.

"Alright. Because where we're going, they don't pull their punches."


	73. Chapter 73

Neon lights. Junkyard fences. Big red metal door. Her friend had certainly talked this place up. Or down. Hard to say what her impression was, for sure.

Sam grabbed the handle and swung the door open, letting Piper step through first. She followed suit, clueluess but curious of what she was about to see.

 _Oh, a ghoul. In a red frock coat and U.S. flag. Stabbing somebody public. Great._

The man — she supposed she could call him that — took notice of them and walked over, still wiping blood off of his knife. "Welcome, ladies. My apologies for the colorful welcome."

Sam did her best not to grimace as she pulled her words together. "You, uh, behave that way with anyone, here?"

"No, no! Just folks who live here. Once you're _of_ the people, you gotta be _for_ the people. And that guy wasn't holding up his end of the bargain. Name's Hancock. Ya dig?"

"You can call me Sam," she curtly replied. "Of the people, for the people, huh? Sounds like anarchy. I dig."

"Seriously, Blue?" Piper elbowed her in the ribs, practically growling.

Hancock laughed. "I think we'll get along just fine then. I happen to be the mayor of this establishment. Some folks call Goodneighbor a thorn in the Commonwealth's side. Guess you could say I'm the one who keeps it from getting plucked out."

The mayor bowed — almost comedically — and took his leave. "Don't mind him," Piper interjected. "He's a junkie and a punk. C'mon, let's see if we can sell some of that scrap you picked up on the way over."

* * *

Sam managed to hit it off with the general goods vendor in town — magnificently, and completely accidentally.

"Y'know I had a husband, back before the bombs fell..."

She nodded understandingly, in the way that only a widow could. Piper was nearby, but with Sam's memories of the past cartwheeling all around her, the reporter could not have felt more far away.

"Well, you're either the biggest bullshitter I've ever met, or the prettiest ghoul I've ever met." The merchant squinted her black, soulless eyes at her. "Or _maybe_ , you're a synth."

Sam squinted back. "Well, then neither of us would be _really_ human, would we?"

 _"Seriously, Blue?"_

But Daisy simply laughed at Piper's protest. "It's alright, darlin'. Nice to see somebody with a little backbone."

Sam smiled vaguely and shrugged. She hadn't exactly meant her comeback as a joke, but so be it.

"It ain't all bad," the ghoul continued. "You get used to it. Even find a few good things, here and there. Sunsets are _gorgeous_. Ever have been, since we blasted half of everything we ever had into the sky."

Sam nodded again. "Is it just me, or are the nights brighter now, too?"

Piper's voice chimed in again. "I always thought they were pretty dark."

Daisy waved a hand dismissively. "Honestly, I can't remember much of what the old world looked like. Feels so long ago, so far away. And my mind isn't what it used to be."

Sam felt a sudden pang of emotion. _She's going to turn feral someday, isn't she?_

Piper stepped up to the counter as well. "Bet there weren't rad storms back in your days, either."

Sam grumbled. "Try not to remind me."

"Can't say they particularly bother yours truly," Daisy added. "Standing in one of them these days feels like a shower of sunshine. In fact..."

The ghoul stepped out from behind her counter, past Sam and Piper both, and out into the open night. She took a deep breath in through her exposed nostrols.

 _"Thought_ the air tasted more irradiated lately. Could be anything. Nearby car exploding. Raider trying to figure out a Fat Man. But I wouldn't be surprised if another storm were to blow in soon."

 _Great_.

Daisy's inkwell eyes met Sam's again. "Look, I try to make the best of it I can, but there's no denying it between us old-timers. It was hell, what we did. To each other. To the whole damn world."

"Yeah, and now all the demons are here."

The ghoul blinked, wide-eyed. "That a _Tempest_ quote? Girl! What I'd do for a copy of that! But there don't seem to be any real books left, these days."

Piper stepped in between the two of them, trying again to enter the conversation. "What's a tempest?"

Daisy facepalmed. Samantha opened her mouth to speak, but Piper beat her to the punch, eyebrows furrowed. "You know what? Never mind. You two have fun with your nostalgia."

Piper turned and walked away. Sam shot Daisy a quick scowl.

The ghoul didn't seem to notice. "You see what I mean? The ignorance?"

"No, I don't see it!" Sam waved her hands as she spoke. "Piper's plenty knowledgable. I'd probably have died a _dozen_ times if she hadn't been with me as a guide. We can't hold people accountable just for being born after the war. At least she tries to understand and sympathize. Better than I can say about _anyone else_ I've met from our time."

Sam turned and chased down the alley after Piper, catching up with her just around a corner.

"Oh- hey Blue."

Her friend's face gave way from anger to sadness. "I should've expected this. Introducing you to her. I'm glad that you found someone you can talk with about the past... just... I wish you'd talk about these things with me, too sometimes. Y'know?"

"I'm sorry, Piper. I don't know why we don't." _I wish we talked more about it too. You make me feel safe. No one else has managed that_.

The reporter offered no immediate response, leaving Sam unsure what to say. She looked around her, spotting the neon lights overhead. _Third Rail?_ Had't Piper made mention of this place on the way over?

"Hey," she turned back to her dear friend. A smile started to form across her lips, just enough to catch Piper's attention. "How about that drink we owe each other?"


	74. Chapter 74

"Drinks are on me, this time."

"If you're sure, Blue!" It meant a lot that her friend was willing to do silly little things like that. Like all of this. Stopping for a drink wasn't exactly going to improve her ability to pick locked doors.

They were seated in an unpopulated corner of the bar. She was grateful for the fact that Blue was willing to sit with her in relative privacy. Her laughter transformed into a smile. "Just don't go completely broke again."

"I mean, _worst that happens_ , we just go looking for trouble and loot a room somewhere, right? But hey, any requests?"

Piper scrunched up her face in thought. "Anything but moonshine."

Blue snorted audibly, but nodded and walked off. _Guess she remembers that story I told her 'bout the Dugout, after all_.

The reporter continued to smile as she looked around, taking in the essence of the entire scene. She couldn't remember the last time she'd treated herself to something nice like this — let alone when someone else had been the one to do the treating. She and Blue had been out on adventures together before, of course. But this was different. This was exactly what she needed.

Her friend returned in nearly no time at all with a small handful of glass items. She placed a Nuka-Cherry down between their two seats, "You seemed the mixed-drink type. Just a guess..." and a bottle of something that looked to be _quite_ strong.

"You don't play around when you go drinking, huh?"

"What, oh this?" Sam looked down at the tall handle of liquor in her hands. "Robot insisted on selling it by the bottle! I figure we can always take what's left of it on the road."

The redhead started pouring drinks out for the both of them. "I've got to say, I never would have imagined I'd see a train station get turned into a bar."

"Commonwealth always has another surprise up its sleeve, that much is sure." Piper tipped her glass towards Blue before taking a sip. _Oh my god, why did I never think to mix Cherry in with stuff like this before?_

She did her best to continue conversation between solid gulps of the delicious mix. "Take yourself, for instance. I've run my fair share of articles over these past few years, and _never_ would I have imagined a tale like yours. You're something else, Blue."

Blue smiled back. "We both are."

They drank. They laughed. They forgot the passage of time. They talked about the past, about the future, about their fears and dreams and everything between them. Blue still remained a little cagey about her past, mentioning snippets, but never letting Piper in quite as deep as she would have liked. _Oh well_ , she thought. _Leaves me with something to look forward to for next time_.

All the while, Magnolia's sweet voice filled the room. More than once, Piper unwittingly compared her friend against the singer. Blue was definitely the better looking of the two, in Piper's eyes.

A set of songs ended. The audiece clapped, including Blue and Piper both.

"You know," Sam remarked. "I used to be a singer, once."

Piper practically did a spit-take. "Blue, you _serious?"_

The woman nodded, laughing understandingly. "Not something you expected, huh? It's been a while, not since I was in undergrad, actually. But yeah, I sang. I sang with Nate."

 _Nate_. The single sorest subject of them all. Piper's voice took a sympathetic turn. "Oh. I'm... I'm sorry. You don't have to—"

"I know" Blue interrupted. "But I want to."

She leaned back in her chair, taking another shot. Her eyes shifted imperceptibly, in that way that the reporter had learned to recognize. Everything around them faded into background noise. It was almost as though Piper were following Blue back into the past, this time around.

"Nate was a guitar player. Acoustic, old school, no onboard electronics. He wrote his own songs. They were... vague, but vaguely anti-war."

"You were against it back then too, huh?" Piper's focus on her friend stayed absolute. "Knew what you all were getting yourselves into?"

Sam nodded with a passing frown. "Not that it helped us stop it, anyway..."

"Go on, Blue. About the songs."

"Right. Before Nate and I got married, we did performances together. I'd pretend the lyrics were my own, so that he wouldn't get in trouble with his higher-ups. A lot easier to write him off for simply playing a tune to support some other civilian's work."

Piper could feel her head spinning, as much from the alcohol as from the thought of her friend singing on a stage. "Blue, would you be willing to..."

Sam laughed before Piper could even complete her sentence. "To sing one for you? Sure, find me a guitar and someone who can learn to play a tune on it by ear."

"Oh. Yeah. I see your point." Piper took a moment to think. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd _seen_ an intact instrument, let alone one tuned to pre-war specifications.

"Hey," Sam said, interrupting the momentary lull. "Let's drink to something!"

 _"To_ something?" Piper blinked at her. "This some old world tradition of yours?"

"Yeah! So, like, we dedicate my next shot and your next sip to something. Something that matters to the both of us."

"That's... really cute, Blue." Piper thought hard for a moment, trying to come up with a fitting subject.

She looked to her friend for inspiration. Her cropped, red, messy, dirty hair. Her blue-steel eyes. Her earnest smile. And her fiery — no, her _electrifying_ compassion. She was foolhardy and headstrong, and the more Piper reflected on it, the more she realized how important that was to making her feel human.

"To the mistakes we make together, and the trouble we get up to. You and I both. I wouldn't trade it for time with anybody."

Samantha smiled back with warm, radiant joy. "Agreed. To trouble."

 _Clink_.


	75. Chapter 75

They stumbled out of the Third Rail together, laughing. The sun had long since set. Dim, barely-maintained streetlamps cast the whole of Goodneighbor in an eerie glow. For a second, Samantha felt like she was back in some part of Boston — _old_ Boston, from before the world had set itself on fire. Or maybe that was just the alcohol.

She leaned on Piper's shoulder, still giggling. Not from any joke, or anything in particular at all. Just... friendship. Camaraderie. Having someone she could confide in and trust in and lose track of time with. _God Piper, not just time... I lose track of everything when I'm around you_.

She stumbled for her words when the moment came to speak.

"Didn't... didn't we come here to get into trouble or something?"

"I don't know Blue, this whole crazy scheme was your idea!"

"Hey now, you're the one who suggested this place." She started humming to herself, then mumbling. "Good, good, neighbor..."

Piper smiled at her. "Catchy tunes, right? But she's got nothing on you, Blue."

"Aww!" Sam giggled again and gently, teasingly gave her friend a little nudge. "I'd take you in your red trench coat over her in her red dress any day."

The reporter beamed back. "We should do this again, sometime. I haven't gone for a drink like that in _ages_."

"Me neither." Sam stared off into the distance. "Not in a _long_ time..."

 _"Pre-war survivor has first drink in 200 years!"_ Piper recited the mock headline, gesturing with her hands for emphasis. But she promptly gave in to continued, semi-drunken laughter of her own. "Really though, Blue. It's nice to see that folks did things like this in your time, too."

Samantha felt warm and happy. The only thing she could use now was a place to rest her head. "Say, Piper, is there a place here where we can stay the night?"

"Sure is! Right... over there, in fact!"

The reporter stumbled backwards a pace and pointed sideways. Sam braced against the wall and tried to focus her eyes.

"The _Rexford?!"_ Sam would never have dreamed of being able to afford a hotel like that back in her day. But Piper was already halfway across the street to it, so she ran as best she could to catch up.

Piper pushed on the door to the old hotel for a second, before realizing — "Oh. Right. Pull."

She held the door open for Sam in an unusual but cute gesture of courtesy. Sam exchanged mock pleasantries with her as they both stepped inside. Neither of them had seen the inside of this place before the war. It was strangely comforting to be on even footing for a change.

Her friend walked up to the clerk to make arrangements. "A room for the night, please. With two beds, if you can."

Sam felt a slight, passing tinge of disappointment. She would never want to impose herself on Piper's privacy, but she had gone so long without the comfort of having someone close to her. She followed her friend up several flights of stairs, wishing that they had an excuse to hold hands as they went.

They got up to the top floor and Piper looked down at her key. "Wait, which room did she say was ours?" She stood there for a moment, mumbling to herself. "So many doors..."

A wild thought passed through Sam's head. She reached into her pack for a screwdriver and a bobby pin. "Piper, if you can't remember which door we're supposed to open..."

"Just open them all!" The reporter's whole face flashed for a moment with childlike mischief. "You go down the hall and work your magic. I'll stand watch."

Sam smirked as they split up. This idea was ridiculous. But heck if she wasn't about to have some fun with it.

She got a few of them to click, though she didn't actually _open_ any of them. She was too scared of opening one up, and someone being on the other side, and, well... 23rd century medicine or not, Sam wasn't in the mood to get a broken nose.

At one point, Piper signaled to her that somebody was coming. Sam quickly pocketed her supplies and leaned against the side of the wall, pretending to be working with her Pip-Boy. The man walked past, head bowed, paying no particular attention to either of them.

He was another ghoul. _'Poor bastard' indeed_ , to borrow Piper's choice of wording. He was fiddling with his key, trying to get it to fit into the lock. Sam had tried that lock earlier herself, and remembered how rusty it had been — worn from centuries of use. She wondered how long the ghoul had been staying there.

Something about him seemed familiar to her. Not in his face — goodness no, she could barely stand to look at it. The way he stood? No, his slouch was broken and depressed. The last time she'd seen someone dressed up in clothes like his, they had been bright, and excited, cheering on about...

 _No._

Sam stood up slowly, her heart suddenly racing. How impossible were the odds? There was no way it could be. But something buried deep inside her kept insisting that it was. She found herself stepping ever closer to the stranger.

"Excuse me," she started, reaching out to touch him. He jumped at her words, which caused her to jump in turn.

"Er, sorry," she said. "I was just... you reminded me of someone, and I..."

But his stare silenced her. He was staring past her. Through her. Back through memories from before the war — memories so distant, so personal, she thought for sure that she was the last person alive to still remember them. But this ghoul proved that wrong. He was seeing her just as she was seeing him — back in Sanctuary Hills.

Sam heard hesitant footsteps come up from behind her. Felt Piper's hand rest upon her shoulder.

"Blue? Do you... know this man?"


	76. Chapter 76

Piper opened the door to their room — with the _actual_ key. The floor was grimy and the wallpaper was more than merely _starting_ to peel. But still, it was shelter, and halfway decent looking shelter, at that.

Between the two beds was an old workdesk with a chair. She was tempted to collapse into it, but she turned first to Blue, and to Blue's newfound friend.

"You want the seat, sir?"

"Sir! Don't you _Sir_ me!" The ghoul's voice was like a rusty can opener. Piper frowned, and took the seat herself. She always wished there was something she could do to really, actually help the poor irradiated humans. They all went through so much — so much more than Piper ever had. She felt so sorry their pain.

Her sadness for this particular man seemed stronger than she usually felt for ghouls. Maybe it had something to do with his constant, depressive frown. Or the fact that Blue had gravitated towards him. _Was he... another survivor from before?_ On the one hand, who was she to deny Samantha company and conversation? On the other hand, though, being shut out of yet _another_ talk was not how she'd hoped the night would go.

Which brought her mind back to the subject of this ghoul. His suit, faintly colored, may well have been a fine bright yellow, two centuries ago. But now, it was worn and tattered to the brink of rags. She took in as much of the man as she could — her inner reporter was taking hold, sensing the prospect of an interview. She noted his attire, his posture, his sunken eyes.

He sat in silence for another minute, with eyes only for Sam. Piper watched as they each eyed the other, like they were waiting to see who would make the first move.

Blue caved, fidgeting in place under the ghoul's stare. "I guess you're wondering..."

"You could _say that_." There was that rusty voice again. "Showing up looking not a _day_ worse than when I came knocking at your door, it... it isn't fair!"

Sam frowned sympathetically, and recounted her basic story. It sounded practically rehearsed at this rate. _Maybe she's finally starting to adjust_. Piper thought back to how much more comfortable Blue had seemed, down in the Third Rail. She'd talked about Nate again, even — and _willingly_ , too!

But now, her friend was starting to look harrowed from having to recount it. From dealing with the ghoul's backlash. Piper did the only thing she knew how to do — she stepped in with a question of her own. "You were with Vault-Tec?"

"I _was_ Vault-Tec!" he snapped back. "What would you know about the Vaults anyway? You don't look a day over twelve."

 _That's a tad excessive_ , Piper thought. But she tried to play the man's commentary off. "I heard plenty, growing up. And Bl- er, that is, _Sam_ and I, we... we were actually just in one a few days back. Do the numbers 1-1-4 mean anything to you?"

"Heard of it, back in the day," he grumbled. "But I was assigned to 111. But if what you say is _true_ , miss, maybe I didn't get so unlucky, being stuck outside."

He laughed hoarsely at his own, crude joke. _You leave Blue out of this_ , she thought. What could she do to change the subject?

"Sir, could... could I ask you a few questions, maybe do an interview?" She pointed up to the little tag she kept tucked into her cap.

 _"Press?"_ The ghoul started laughing again. "Ha! That's rich! You don't know what _real_ newspapers were like!"

"Hey, I just want to get the truth out to help people, okay? Call it what you want." Piper curled up a little bit. The old man's attitute was starting to wear her spirit thin.

"At least she's _trying,_ " Sam's voice cut through the old man's grumbling. "The last 'real' newspapers stopped printing centuries years ago! Don't you think maybe we could just change our expectations a bit?"

He shook his head. "That's not the point."

"It's _exactly_ the point," Sam rebutted. "And with an attitude like that, of course it's going to stay ruined. You ever think of trying to start over? You ever think maybe it's good we left so much hate behind?"

"That's easy for you to say! You're still _pretty_ like the old world was. You got to skip past everything that's been so bad. I've had to live through it. _Crawl_ through it. For two hundred years!"

"Yeah." Sam laughed vindictively. "I see you've put that time to real good use."

 _"You don't know a damn—!"_

The ghoul stood up, but Blue stood up even faster. _"Yeah?"_ she half-yelled. _"Tell me_. Tell me how much we don't know. Tell me how much _we_ haven't suffered!"

But the man said nothing. He stared at her for a few, long seconds, then turned and walked out of the room in silence. Sam said nothing until the door clicked shut behind him.

"Crass, ungrateful curmudgeons, the lot of them."

Piper's breath returned to her. "For a second there, I thought you were going to fight him. They've lived hard lives, Blue. _Just like you have."_

Sam allowed herself to fall backwards onto the bed. "That's no excuse to disrespect others."

"You're one to talk right now," she snapped back. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but I'd much rather be protected with compassion than with anger."

Piper got up and headed to bed herself. "He was bitter... heck, maybe even mean. But he didn't deserve _that_."

She heard her friend sigh. "You're right. He didnt..."

"Give it time, Blue. You're still adjusting. Processing. Going through a lot."

"I guess..." Sam rolled over on the bed to face her from across the room. "Thanks for standing by me, Piper. Even when I do make dumb mistakes."

Piper got herself to smile one last time, before she closed her eyes. "You'd do the same for me."


	77. Chapter 77

"Well, you old-timers sure know how to give each other feelings."

Goodneighbor was behind them and with it, Sam's painful run-in with a stark reminder of her past.

"I shouldn't have treated him that way. It was the last thing he deserved." Sam kicked a can down the road as they walked. _Does no one even try to clean things up, out here?_ "I left him a note, at least. Wrote it up before we left the hotel this morning. Slipped it under his door."

"That's... actually really sweet. Proud of you, Blue." Piper took a step closer. Sam didn't take a step away. "Y'know, you could talk to Nick about this stuff, too."

"What, about dealing with people out-of-time?"

"Working with them... and coping with being one yourself. He's been around for a long while. Longer than you'd probably imagine."

Sam smiled, appreciative of the attention, and the care. "I'll think about that."

"All anyone can ask," Piper said, returning the smile.

Things went quiet between them for a few minutes after that. Samantha didn't mind. How could she? She was too busy enjoying how close she felt to the other woman — in space as well as sentiment.

She took in a deep breath of air. Something did feel a little _off_ about it. Could Daisy have seriously sniffed out a radiation storm? Before it even arrived?

Sam took a look down at her Pip-Boy. "Piper, where are you taking us? We're not exactly heading back towards Diamond City..."

"Wasn't really heading anywhere specifically." The reporter looked over at her. "That a problem?"

"I guess not," though Sam did begin to fidget as they walked. "Just... ok, but what if a rad storm really does show up? And don't you have work to do back home? Don't you want to check on Nat?"

"We'll find shelter if a storm hits! And the paper can wait a little longer. I'm having too much fun out here."

Her continued smile seemed to be in earnest, but she didn't say anything more.

Sam grimaced a little — _If you're sure, Piper..._ — and looked back down to her Pip-Boy. "Hang on, what's this?" Some alert about a radio signal had popped up on the screen.

Her friend stopped and looked over. "Hmm?" They both fiddled with the Pip-Boy's controls a little, trying to figure it out. Sam gave a dial near the bottom a turn until it lined up with the frequency displayed.

 _"WHEN EVIL WALKS THE STREETS OF BOSTON..."_

If Samantha had been able to stumble backwards from her own Pip-Boy in shock and disblief, she would have. "The _Silver Shroud?_ What is _this_ still doing on the airwaves?"

Piper burst out laughing, but reached over, dropping the volume down to zero. "Probably for the best if we don't make noise with that around here. Unless you _want_ to attract some kind of attention from the locals."

"No, I get it." Sam left the Pip-Boy off, and then continued walking. She shook her head in disbelief. "You'd think that after two _hundred_ years, someone would have taken those old radio dramas off the air."

"Aww, are you kidding?" Piper reached into her pocket and pulled out a box of gumdrops. "I _loved_ listening to them growing up. Diamond City broadcasts them too, on rare occasions. Not your thing, Blue?"

"Too much gunplay. I, uh..." She averted her friend's gaze for a moment. "I was a Mistress of Mysteries gal, to be honest."

Piper practically squealed. "I could _totally_ see you with a Blade of Bastet!" She handed Sam a handful of the little candies, which she reflexively accepted.

"That was her sword, right?" Sam felt a single butterfly of childlike excitement begin to flutter in her stomach. She put in a teasing tone of voice. _"Maybe_. But I'm honestly quite happy with this hammer. Some special went and got it for me."

Piper rolled with it. "Lucky special someone! Knowing they can trust you to guard their back with it. But y'know... I _am_ still waiting for an explanation about the guns thing, Blue."

"Take me out for another drink sometime."

The reporter leaned into her with a playful nudge. "Deal!"

 _You loved that too, huh?_ "Hey, you feel like taking a minute to just sit down on a bench somewhere?"

"Probably shouldn't." Piper frowned and looked up all around them. "Gunner territory."

"Augh, right." Sam kept forgetting how dangerous the world was. They kept walking. "Seriously though, Piper? The Shroud?"

"The Shroud!" Piper practically pawed at her. "I mean, think about it Blue. Think about _me_. Trenchcoated, gun-toting vigilante, out to stop corruption and set things right."

"Vigilante? Not _everyone's_ against you."

"More than you'd think. But... hey, wait. What's up with your Pip-Boy?"

Sam looked down at it. "Wh- _another_ signal found?" She tuned it in — with the volume lowered, this time — and listened.

 _"Automated message repeating..."_

They both listened to the distress call in its entirety, before looking at each other.

"Y'know, Piper, I'm suddenly real glad we went this way, instead of going back into town."

The reporter squinted at her. "Blue, wait, that signal almost sounded—"

"Like folks in trouble, is what it sounded like! Come on!"

Sam started walking so fast she nearly ran — Piper double-timing to keep up by her side.

The distress call's epicenter wasn't far. Sam remembered this part of town fairly well. The fighting was audible before it was visible. She honed in on the volume, tracing it to the nearby police station... and some sort of military barricade set up outside of it, marked with an unfamiliar insignia. _Gears, a Sword, and Wings_.

Something about the symbol caught her curiosity. "This is new... hey, Piper, do you know wh—"

 _"Not now Blue! We've got company!"_

Sam spun about, the urgency in her friend's voice causing her to grab her mallet before she even saw what she was up against. When she did see, her heart dropped.

 _Great. More ghouls_.


	78. Chapter 78

The fighting went by like a blur. The way Blue tripped and crippled one ghoul after the next, the whole thing practically felt easy. She really knew how to work that sledge she'd gotten her. _And you say you're not strong_.

The waves of ferals finally stopped. Piper could feel her sweat in the cold breeze. Was the weather picking up? Maybe Daisy really had been on the mark. This would not be a great time for a rad storm — not with ferals in the area.

Piper reached out for her friend, clasping her hand in her own, however briefly. "You alright?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Always puts my heart a little through its paces."

Blue laughed. "More I have to deal with them, the more they scare me every time. The way they just _throw_ _themselves_ at you..."

"Ugh." A shiver ran up and down her spine just from the thought of it. "Never would have guessed though. You really held your own there."

The redhead's smile warmed Piper from the inside out. She'd never admit it, but she loved how safe Samantha made her feel. "That hammer really is something else," she added. "Hey, you need a stim?"

"Don't think so, actually. Took a few bad scratches, but we can deal with those later."

Piper nodded. "Well, good luck trying to get any supplies off these types." She gestured towards the folks behind her. The other humans on the premises, though neither side had yet approached the other. Everyone was still getting themselves cooled off from the fight.

"Who _are_ those people, anyway?"

"The _Brotherhood of Steel_. Been a while since any of them ventured this far north. Word is they're based in the old pre-war capital. Ran a story on them about three years ago, last time one of their vertibirds got spotted overhead."

Blue raised both eyebrows. "Vertibirds? They have _working vertibirds?"_

"They've... got a _thing_ for technology." It took no small effort for Piper not to roll her eyes as she spoke about them.

Sam started walking over towards them. "I want to see what they're about. _Excuse me! Ma'am!"_

Piper trailed behind her. _"Blue, why?_ We helped them already. Can't we just go?"

But her friend was already striking up converstaion with one of the ground troops, either oblivious or indifferent to the walking suit of power armor next to her. _Blue, these people are soliders. Do we really need to—?_

"How long has this been going on?" Sam inquired.

The other woman looked up at the both of them. "An hour or two?"

 _"What?"_ Piper stammered. "And in the _middle of the day?_ What did you _do_ to provoke them so much?"

The power armor — and presumably, the man inside it — spoke in answer. "They don't need provoking. They're mindless monsters."

"I hope you mean the feral kind!" Piper snapped back, trying to keep her calm around the loud machine. "I can think of a few ghouls I'd go to bat for."

"We'll see how much you're willing to stand by them when they look and act like this." The armored soldier gestured out towards to carnage all around them. Piper frowned.

"But that's irrelevant right now. We put out a distress call, and you two were the only ones to answer." He reached his large, steel arms up and disconnected his helmet, revealing the face of the man within. He seemed to be about the same age as Sam, or possibly herself. _Wonder how long he's been in that suit_.

The man offered a hand to Blue. "Paladin Danse," he flatly stated.

"Samantha. Samantha Red." She grabbed one of the suit's mechanical fingers and shook. The Paladin then turned towards Piper.

"What happened?" she asked coldly. "One failed recon mission not enough?"

He blinked at her, evidently not expecing what he'd just heard. "Well, I see team Artemis is a known entity to the civilians." He turned back towards Sam, opting to keep his focus on the more easygoing of the two.

"We're still getting ourselves established here," he explained. "We represent a... larger organization. Those of us who are still alive, that is."

Samantha nodded somberly. "I know what it's like to lose a soldier." The compassion in her voice was clear.

Piper felt her hands tighten into fists. _Don't you dare pull on her heartstrings, boy._

But Danse was strictly business. "You seem capable enough. Would you and your companion here be willing to assist us? Our mission in the Commonwealth is far from over."

Piper decided to step in before Blue could make any more mistakes, and sign up with the wrong side. "Come on, Blue," she insisted. "We don't need to work with these people. They've got more supporting them than you or I will in our entire lives."

She grabbed Sam's arm and started to head out. Blue didn't seem to physically resist, though she did voice a quiet, timid protest. "Uh... Piper?"

The quiver of fear in her voice caught Piper off guard — not at all the kind of pushback that she had expected. She turned to face her friend. Blue was looking up, and pointing up as well. Green clouds were starting to roll in, and an all-too-common sound was starting to reverberate across the sky.

 _Oh hell_. Daisy had been right.

"Everyone inside!" Danse boomed. He closed the gap between them in a single, mechanical stride. "That includes the two of you. I don't care how much you might want to disagree with our procedures, miss, you and your friend here need shelter, and this building's lined with lead."

Piper looked over to at her friend. The distant cloudbursts practically made her tremble. _Poor Blue, she must be thinking back to last time_.

"Fine!" She grumbled at the man. Deep inside, she _was_ grateful. But having anything to do with these military-types still felt to her like she was embracing an unnecessary evil. _Just do it for her_ , she thought.

"Come on, Blue. You're gonna be okay."


	79. Chapter 79

Sam felt just a _little_ awkward, being the first to talk. "So... how do you want to handle this?" _An entire recon squad. A whole police station. And they only have one spare sleeping bag. Figures_.

Piper looked at her, and then they both looked down at the bedroll. "I mean... it's going to get cold tonight, so..."

The tension in the reporter's voice was a minor reassurrance. Piper was a bit uncomfortable with their situation too. It _wasn't_ just her.

"I guess there's nothing for it but for us to...?"

"Sounds about the size of it." Speaking of size, would they both even _fit_ in the sack together?

Piper turned to face away from Sam and took off her outer layers. Sam turned away herself, and did the same. The cold air on her exposed skin gave her goosebumps. At least, she was pretty sure that was what was causing it.

"Hey, at- at least we'll both be warm tonight, right? Blue?"

"Uh, yeah. Definitely." Goosebumps or not, Sam was already feeling fairly warm inside.

Piper crawled in first. Sam followed suit after her friend had gotten reasonably comfortable. The muffled blasts of the radiation storm were still audible outside.

"You think Nat will be alright?"

"These storms are nothing new. She knows what's up. She'll be fine."

"You're being awfully hands-off about your sister, lately," Sam observed. "Everything alright between the two of you?"

"Y- yeah! I mean... I mean I _guess_ she's been grinding my nerves a little more than usual lately..."

"Guess that's to be expected between sisters though, right?"

"Expected and accepted," Piper answered, turning to face her.

Sam had never really given much attention to the reporter's features, especially not in the dark. Her freckles somehow stood out _more_ in the dim, incidental light. And her eyes were _astonishing_ at night.

"We... we should sleep." Sam hated to cut the moment short, but could feel herself overheating just from looking at her friend too closely.

"I guess," Piper sighed. "Let me know if you need room, ok?"

They settled into comfortable positions — each one sleeping on their side, facing away from the other. It was the closest they could come to having even a modicum of privacy between them. Sam closed her eyes, and quieted her thoughts. She knew that sleep would come.

* * *

Sleep did come, for a little while, but then she was awake again. Strange noises were coming from outside. Piper was already up and dressed, it seemed, although her vision was a little blurry. She didn't say anything to her — but with the look of fear on her face, perhaps she didn't need to.

The old police station was barely lit. Another blackout, just like from before the war. Soldiers ran past her, pointing, yelling. Their words were muffled, but the sentiment was clear. _Ferals_. And they had come for _her_.

She reached behind her for Piper's hand, but she couldn't find it. Piper was in this, just as she was, but she also somehow knew, in a way that words could not describe, she was going into it alone.

The sky was black as the darkest corners of a Vault. The radiation didn't come in cloudbursts like it often did — just a constant roaring, all around her. It left a hot and cracking dryness in her throat. A slow and heavy weakness in her arms and legs. Her hammer moved at only a fraction of what she wished it would.

A ghoul came hurdling towards her, out of the frigid darkness. She raised her hammer, but the feral's teeth, rotted into razorblades, ate right through the wooden handle. Something about this one was _different_ , and it terrified her. It stopped for a second, turning to look back at her. It took only a moment for her to recognize the yellow overcoat.

The Vault-Tec rep had gone feral already. In her gut she somehow knew — she had caused this. She had made him turn, when she had turned him away.

She opened her mouth to plead with him, but no words came. She was too tired, too weak, too _cold_ to use her voice. And so he turned, away from her, and towards her friend.

Her heart turned into ice. Piper pointed her gun at the former man, but he got to her first. Sam watched, slow and powerless, as he sank his teeth and claws deep into her neck and body. She didn't scream. Or if she did, she couldn't hear it. All sound seemed to fade away. She found it hard to move. Hard to breathe. _Piper... no..._

A single laser shot vaporized the woman's murderer. Piper stumbled in place for a second, dizzied from the pain and loss of blood. They locked eyes for the final time.

"Blue..." was all that she could manage, before she fell over, limp and lifeless.

She stared. Kneeled. Cried hot tears of irradiated pain. The battled raged on without her, but she no longer cared. She'd lost her only friend. She was herself ready to die.

She opened her mouth to say goodbye, and words did come, this time — though they were not her own.

 _"Cryogenic sequence, reinitiated."_

* * *

Samantha woke up in a sweat. The room was dark and silent. Not even the storm was audible anymore. Sam was too paralyzed from fear to check her Pip-Boy for the time. She played the dream over in her head.

It... _had_ been a dream, right?

At first, she was hesitant to turn around, for fear of who she might not see. But then her legs felt someone else's brush against her.

She rolled over instantly, and recognized the woman beside her just as fast. Her hair. Her figure. Her breath.

The relief that washed over Sam left her barely able to manage a whisper. "I'm glad you're here, Piper..."

She curled up close against her friend, afraid to let her go. Even for a moment.

"And I'm so glad that you're alive."


	80. Chapter 80

Piper woke up feeling incredible. A warm happiness surrounded her, something that she couldn't explain. For being cramped up in a sleeping bag with another gal, she felt like she'd gotten better rest that night than any other night in a long, _long_ time.

But then she noticed the arms wrapped tenderly around her waist.

She tried to turn around, but realized that the warmth she felt was _Sam_ , pressed up close against her. Piper reached down to unclasp the woman's two hands from each other, but heard mumbling from behind. Assuming this had happened overnight on _accident_ , she figured that her friend might not appreciate waking up to find herself in this position either.

 _She... got cold, in the middle of the night._ That was what she told herself, anyway.

Slowly, deftly, Piper worked on slipping her way up and out of bed, out of the other woman's arms. It was _cold_ in the room. In retrospect, she should have taken her clothes into the bag with her — that way, they would have stayed warm through the night. But then again, if she'd done that, there would have been even less room, and she and Blue would have had to curl up even _closer..._

Piper threw her stuff on and looked down at her friend. Samantha's arms were still in something of a ring around where Piper's body once had been. But ever so slowly, they began to curl up towards her chest. _Cut that out, Blue. You're gonna make me wish I hadn't gotten out of bed_.

She pulled the top of the sleeping bag up around her friend, and deposited her clothes inside of it as well. It was the least that Piper felt like she could do. She took one last, pitying glance at her friend, and stepped out into the main room of the police station.

The recon squad's three remaining members were all awake. _Do you guys even sleep? Or are you too manly for that?_

She looked around the old building. It was a pretty major wreck. Splinters of wall and ceiling everywhere. Debris in excess. Barely a place to sit. "So this is your base camp, huh? How do you find _anything_ in here?"

The younger of the two men — a Knight, if she remembered correctly from the previous evening — looked up at her and scowled. "Not good enough for you? Then _leave."_

"Oh, don't worry," Piper snapped back. "I'm just waiting for my friend to wake up, and we'll _both_ be on our way."

 _"Good._ We've got no use for you, and so we've got no need for you."

 _And this is why I hate boys. This is why I hate the Brotherhood._

"We do too have a use for them." Danse stepped in from a nearby room. The floorboards creaked beneath each stomp of his power armor. Did he _sleep_ in the damn thing?

"They've both proven themselves to be capable fighters, and we're down more than half our company. If we want to re-establish contact with the main chapter, we should take all the help we can get. _Even from outsiders."_

The Knight grunted. "You sound less like Maxson every day."

 _Maxson?_ Now there was a name she'd heard rumors of.

Piper left the two soldiers to their bickering, and went to take a look outside one of the station's windows. Assess the radiation damage from a distance.

It _had_ been a long time since she and Nat had been separated in a rad storm. _Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Piper? Distancing yourself from Nat like this?_ Maybe it was a stupid idea. She made a note to talk with Blue about it, sometime. She trusted Samantha's judgement far more often than not — though, she might have to start questioning that, if she was trying to make inroads with the Brotherhood.

Piper sighed, and thought out loud, speaking meaninglessly into the air. "Hope you're okay out there, sis."

The third member of the recon team came walking over towards her. The woman of the trio. They didn't exactly have a lot to talk about. Piper seriously considered pulling out a cigarette.

"Starting to think I should have stayed in bed," she grumbled. So long as the Scribe was standing around next to her, they might as well _try_ to make small talk.

"It was a long night for both of them. For all three of us." The woman took off her hat, amber hair falling to her side, which she then quickly gathered up into a tight, military ponytail. "Paladin Danse was afraid the ghouls were going to come back in the night."

 _You guys must've done something pretty serious to piss them off_. But Piper chose to hold her commentary. "Did any?"

"Not a one." She laughed a little. "Guess the commander can worry a bit too much sometimes. But we _have_ lost a lot of people since we came here. More than half, now."

"Why come here then? Why risk so much life?"

"The Commonwealth in particular? That's classified..."

Piper snorted. _Of course it is_.

"...but broadly?" Haylen continued. "Couldn't I ask you the same thing? Why are any of us out here doing anything?"

"We all just want to do what we think is right, I suppose." Piper caught her hand at one point, reaching for her lighter. She switched over to a different pocket, searching for a stick of gum instead.

The other woman nodded. "What's right. That's good. What about you? What do you think is right?"

"Truth," Piper answered without a moment's pause. "Compassion. Generosity. Fight for you and yours, but only as a last resort."

The Scribe did not immediately reply.

Piper smirked a little to herself. _Yeah, had a feeling that might shut you up_. Still, she wished Blue would wake up and come steal her away. Maybe she should just go wake her up? _No... let her sleep. She really seemed like she could use it_.


	81. Chapter 81

Sam woke up feeling content, if admittedly still quite tired. She would have loved to go back to rest — to return to that moment when she'd first curled up against her friend in the middle of the night. She could have sworn she'd heard a happy little mumble come from Piper's voicebox, right before sleep had taken her a second time.

But something didn't feel right. Piper wasn't next to her anymore. Sam opened her eyes to find that she was curled up next to a warm bundle of _clothes_ instead.

For a split second, she freaked. Then the panic calmed down into a mere worry, remembering how the night had gone. She thought back through it, painfully combing, trying to distinguish fact from fiction. What was dream and what was real.

She'd had another nightmare. One of her most vivid ever, or at the very least, since... how had Codsworth put it? _'Everything happened!'_

 _I really hope they aren't getting worse_. She wondered if it was mere coincidence that the dream had been so harsh, the same night that she had slept so close to her friend. _You just make everything more vivid, don't you, Piper?_

She grabbed her clothes out of the sleeping bag. She buttoned up her shirt and pulled on her jacket. She was cold, but not nearly as cold as she would have been. Little, thoughtful things like this were what endeared the reporter to her the most. It spoke to Piper's thoughtfulness and heart.

Sam stepped into the main room, yawning audibly. Piper was at the far end of the room, conversing with the other woman... a _Scribe_ , they'd called her? The two men, meanwhile, were bickering. Danse was in his power armor — whether _again_ or _still_ , she couldn't say.

The other soldier, not in power armor, turned and pointed at her.

"Great, and now you too! Weren't content just to stay in your Vault, huh?"

 _You know nothing about my past_. And how did he even know that she had been in a—

Oh, right. The miniature computer on her arm. Kind of a giveaway.

"Rhys, that's enough. You're dismissed," Danse ordered coldly. It was nice to see that Sam wasn't the only one to not appreciate the man's attitude. He turned to argue back, but Danse simply stared him down. No further words were necessary.

"By your orders, sir." He gave Sam one final scowl, and walked away.

She waited a second for him to clear earshot, then approached the so-called Paladin. "He always in that chipper of a mood?"

Danse shook his head with disappointment. "You'll have to excuse his behavior. He hasn't taken our recent casualties well at all."

"Loss is always a difficult thing to cope with."

Piper, picking up on Sam's voice, came running over. "Hey Blue! You... sleep ok?"

Sam stared at her for a moment, first appreciating the simple fact that she was _alive_ , and then getting around to answering her question. "Uh, yeah, I guess?" She hadn't woken Piper up after she'd curled up next to her, had she?

"I'm sorry we couldn't offer you anything better for sleeping arrangements," Danse added. "Ours is a team of frontrunners. A scouting party to gather intel for a larger task force."

"You mean there's _more_ of you coming?!" Piper blurted out.

"We believe so." The Paladin offered a bit more of an explanation of their circumstances. Apparently, they had come with the equipment to establish their own deep-range radio transmitter, capable of reaching well over halfway down the eastern seaboard. But like so much else of their equipment and their personnel, it had been destroyed.

"In fact, I was wondering if I could recruit the two of you. Sign you on for help in a recon mission. We believe we've identified a suitable replacement transmitter, based out of a tech facility from before the war."

Sam was unconvinced, in no small part due to the attitude she saw written all across her companion's face. "I'll help you," she said at long last, "but I'm not joining sides with anyone."

"Good enough!" Danse gave her a strong, solid pat on the shoulder with his power-armor hand. "I'm ready to roll out as soon as you are."

"Right. We'll... go pack, then?" She turned to look at Piper, who looked back at her, but didn't say anything, good or bad.

They headed back into the room where they had slept together, side-by-side. Looking at the bedroll and thinking back to being curled up against the other woman made her shiver. In the back of her head, Sam wished it could be night again.

Piper packed in silence. Something about her attitude seemed off. "Hey," Sam called over after her own belongings had been gathered up and put away. "Everything ok?"

The reporter sighed. "Just... seeing a different side of you, that's all. I hope you're aware of what you're getting yourself into, Blue. But I'm not sure you are."

A chill went through Sam again — but this time, not the good kind. She realized Piper wasn't guaranteed to follow her around everywhere. She had to prove herself, keep herself worthy in the woman's eyes. Deep down, she knew in her heart that if her friend wanted to hurt her, she could. She'd be able to completely destroy her.

Sam slung her gear over her shoulder first, and closed the gap between them. "Piper..."

She reached out towards the woman. She didn't take her hand in full, but allowed a few fingers to intertwine. It was just enough to make the reporter's expression change for the better.

"You heard what I said to Danse, right? I'm not signing on with _anybody_. But these folks are down on their luck, and they could use a little friendship and support. Now come on, you gonna join me on this adventure or what?"

Piper failed to hold her laughter back. "With you for company? I think I could suffer through it."


	82. Chapter 82

"Be mindful, we don't know what we're getting into here."

"Didn't know you soldiers were _capable_ of being humble, admitting to not knowing things."

Danse glared back at her. "It's a _tactical assessment_. Try not to take everything so personally. It'll increase your life expectancy."

Sam shot her a look as well, as if to say — _Hey, could you turn it down a bit?_ Piper sighed. Maybe she _was_ being too hard on the Paladin. Maybe, but _only_ maybe. She knew that as far as the Brotherhood was concerned, you were labeled as a hostile until proven otherwise. It only seemed fair to return the sentiment. There was something darkly satisfiyng in being able to vent, that way.

Danse gave them a basic overview of his entrance strategy. He would lead the way, clear things out and take the brunt of any enemy aggression with his power armor. They were to mop up what he missed or left behind, search for supplies, and watch his six.

"We're used to guarding people's backs," Samantha joked, "Right, Piper?"

She smiled a little bit from that. It meant a lot to see Blue's positive attitute. Even if she was being positive with a group of militants and hoarders.

They made their way up and in. Danse ripped the front door straight out of the doorframe, thanks to his hydraulic arms. The tearing metal left a _decidedly_ unpleasant sound in piper's ears, but she endured it.

The sound that followed though, was even worse. "HOSTILE, LIFE-FORMS, DETECTED."

Piper felt an unwelcome but familiar thread of ice run up her spine. Synths were here. The _Institute_ was here.

She tried to protest, but the mission carried on regardless, and they fought their way inside. _Damnit, Blue, you're so naive_. She hadn't lost a loved one to the Institute. She didn't know what they were truly up against.

As for Danse... _well,_ _I'd be pretty confident too, if I had my own suit of power armor_. Or maybe they were just an unfamiliar foe to him as well. She had no idea how far the Institute's influence reached. Maybe synths weren't even a _thing_ where the Brotherhood came from.

The Paladin gunned the synths down easily. Sam caught one stepping out of a side room and swung her hammer at it instantly, smashing its exposed, robotic skull of a head clean off. They each stopped for a second to process.

"So _that's_ a synth, huh?" Sam looked to Piper, confused and perhaps a little spooked. "Like, a synth that isn't Nick."

For a moment, Piper was ready to run into Blue's arms and hug her. This building full of synths was the absolute, final, _last place on earth_ she wanted to be, right then. Heck, she'd even take a nest of _mirelurks_ over this. Fear of the Institute had been pounded into Piper since her childhood. And it was times like these that that fear made her want to cry.

"Hey!"

Sam snapped her fingers to get Piper's attention. "Come back to me. You're worrying. I know that face." She slung her hammer over one shoulder and used her free hand to grab Piper's. "There's no need for that, okay? _We're_ okay. You, and me, and Danse. We're all going to be fine."

 _Are you sure?_ Piper wanted to ask, but didn't let herself. _Deep breaths, Piper. Trust your friend. Follow her lead._

She smiled and gave a firm nod. "Thanks, Blue. C'mon, let's go catch up to the pain train."

* * *

"I really wish you wouldn't keep derailing us every ten minutes!"

"Sshh. It'll go faster if you don't chime in as much."

Blue was fiddling with yet _another_ lock. There was a surprising amount of stuff around here, kept under the timeless tradition of lock and key. Blue was getting into a pretty serious rhythm of cracking them, though. _Maybe she really could break into Kellogg's house, at this rate_.

She'd been looting as she went, too. Looting safes, _and_ looting synths. Something about intricate parts and precious metals. Piper was a little worried that it would simply mark the two of them for future Institute investigation. Did Blue even _know_ how to work with little scientific bits like that?

 _I guess she could teach herself_. She'd certainly taught herself how to do other things. How to hack into a computer from nothing but a basic civilian terminal. Or, case in point, how to pick a lock.

Danse grumbled in defiance, but was powerless to dissuade Sam from her goal. "I'm gonna go stand watch. Any technology you find, let me know. The Brotherhood will gladly confiscate it."

And he walked out of the room.

"I'm sure you gladly would," Sam muttered quietly. Piper had to restrain a snorted laugh.

"So he _does_ annoy you, huh Blue?"

"In some ways." she admitted. "But not nearly as much as he seems to bother _you_. What's up with that, Piper?"

"Ask me when we're not working up close and personal with him," she whispered back.

"Fair enough," Sam chuckled. "But yeah, hell if I'm handing over any cool finds to him. I want to see what we can make of this stuff on our own. Ah, _there_ we go!"

The pins clicked into place, and Sam spun the door open with a satisfied grin. Piper adored watching Blue get into old, abandoned things like this. It wasn't really breaking or stealing anymore. It was theirs for the taking — or anyone's really, up for anyone who had the skill to get to it.

And Blue _really did_ have the skill. She was something else — a jack of so many trades, and charismatic and good-looking to boot. _Just stop being so stupid about the guns thing, Blue, and I don't know if I'd be able to find a single flaw in you_.

Well, unless she really did decide to sign on with the Brotherhood of Steel. _But you wouldn't do that. Right?_


	83. Chapter 83

The back-access door to ArcJet Systems blew open from the inside. Danse led the way out, as he had led the entire operation, followed reasonably closely by Sam and Piper, sticking side by side.

Samantha dusted herself off, and drew in a deep, fulfilling breath of air. It tasted clear, and cold, and clean. At least, compared to the stale and moldy air of a centuries-old run-down tech facility. She was a bit surprised there hadn't been more in the way of rodents and pests, on their expedition. Maybe they had already come and gone, all in the span of while Sam had been in stasis. Or maybe the Institute and its synths had cleared them out.

Danse took a quick assessment of their surroundings — as he was wont to do, Sam figured, being a military man — then turned back to face her, and her friend.

"That was some damn fine work in there," he said with an earnest smile. "Thanks to you, we'll be able to transmit far more detailed information up to our superiors."

"You're welcome, Paladin. Glad we were able to help." Sam smiled at him, and also at Piper. _I hope she's doing alright. Those synths really seemed to shake her up_.

But they had also recovered _so much gear_. Her pack was full to the point that it nearly threatened her posture. With how much fun Piper had been having, watching her pick locks the whole time through, Sam couldn't shake the feeling that they had a story for the books. She loved the idea of reading an article about all this from her friend's perspective.

"I should check back in at the police station. You sure you won't join up with us?"

Sam glanced momentarily to Piper. The reporter's face seemed to convey three emotions at once — concern, confusion, and _"Blue, don't you dare."_

She took the cue, turning back to Danse and putting on her most assertive tone of voice. "Thank you, but my answer _remains,_ no."

The soldier nodded sternly. "Well, I can't force you. If you ever change your mind, though, know you have a place with us."

Sam nodded. "Don't worry about Piper and I. We can hold our own." She didn't make deliberate eye contact with her friend, but she did catch a glimpse of the woman smiling from her comment, however unintentionally.

"Understood. One last thing then, before I go. I'd like you to have something, even if you aren't going to join us. Perhaps even especially..."

He reached to the side of his suit of power armor, and unclipped a secondary sidearm, holster and all. Sam had noticed the weapon on him it earlier, and simply figured that it was a backup.

"This is a standard-issue Brotherhood laser pistol," Danse explains. Sam nodded, squinting at it dubiously. Nate had been equipped with one of these, back in the day. At least, she was pretty sure he had talked about something like this, once or twice.

He held the weapon out in front of her. "For you. For the good work you did in there."

Sam tried her best to force a polite smile, reaching out with one hand just so she could nudge the weapon back towards the Paladin. "I appreciate it, but I'm really not the type to go get into a firefight, if I can help it."

"Then take it for the times that you _can't_ help it," Danse flatly answered. "A gun is as much for offense as it is for protecting you and yours."

"Hey, she _said_ she doesn't want to use a gun!" Piper snapped, finally entering the conversation. "Leave her be about it, will you? You saw how capable she was with that hammer back in—"

"No, Piper, it's ok," Sam interjected. It meant a lot to her that Piper had come around in accepting her so much, even to the point of being willing to vouch for her. But something in Danse's words had struck an unfamiliar chord.

She turned back to the man and took the gun into her hands. "Thank you. I can't promise that I'll ever use it, but I will at least accept your gift."

Sam tested the weapon's weight in her hands. She couldn't even bring herself to _pretend_ to aim it, let alone to give it a test fire. But still, at least she was willing to _carry_ a sidearm. That was progress of some kind, right?

"So, it's purely an energy weapon? No ballistics?" Sam supposed that made it ever so slightly more bearable. Ever so slightly less belonging to the common archetype. But it was still such a clear reflection of the past. She couldn't say for sure if she was any better for accepting this, than any other gun she'd pick up off the street.

"Precisely right," Danse reaffirmed. "It'll be more effective on some things than on others. You'll _obliterate_ machines with it. Organics will absorb a little bit of the latent heat-force, but you'll still leave one hell of a burn mark if your aim is true."

Sam grimaced momentarily. She didn't _want_ to leave a burn mark in _anything_. No more than she wanted to leave a bullet hole.

"Try it yourself sometime. You'll see. But for now, I wish you luck, and victory in battle. Until our paths cross again."

He raised his arm to his chest in a salute, and marched away. Sam turned to face her friend — her expression proved impossible to read.

"Your thoughts?"

The reporter sighed and raised both eyebrows. "That sure was... something... alright."

Sam squinted. "Piper, I'm serious. Are you alright?"

 _"Oh yeah_ , Blue, I'm fine! We only just collaborated with a group of xenophobic _militants_ to paint an anti-Institute target on ourselves the size of the whole _Commonwealth_. Yeah, nothing bad! Nothing bad at all."

Sam sighed. They had a lot to talk about on the road back home.


	84. Chapter 84

The first few minutes of her walk alongside Blue were quiet. Piper felt bad for taking out her anger on the woman in so raw a manner. But Blue kept asking, kept insisting on trying to check in.

 _Alright, Blue. You really wanna talk? I'll talk._

"Why is it that whenever you put two men in a room together, one of them always feels the need to lead the other? Like one of them's just _got_ to be more important?" She waved her arms a bit for emphasis, taking care not to smack Samantha in the face.

Her friend replied after a couple moments' thought. "I think that's a _little_ harsh. I've known men who didn't act like that. And women who did."

Piper grumbled to herself. "Still, they're all such... _boys._ "

Sam laughed a little. "What's wrong with boys?"

"Are you serious? The _entire Brotherhood_ is what's wrong with boys. They yell, they fight, they make up rules just so that they can be the ones in charge. And they leave messes _everywhere_. Did you _see_ the inside of that police station?"

"Y'know, Nate _does_ fit every one of those descriptors. Or, _did_ , I guess..."

Piper caught herself. "Oh, uh, sorry Blue, I didn't mean to offend—"

"No, I get it. Don't worry, Nate wasn't like _them_. Or, well..." the redhead rolled her eyes a bit in thought. "Danse was _kind_ of like him, in one or two small ways. But not the other guy at all. What was his name? Rhys?"

 _"Rhys._ That man is ten kinds of angry by himself. Would you want him watching your back?"

"Would you want him doing anything?"

That made Piper laugh in turn. "See, Blue, that's what I don't get. You'll rip on the Brotherhood just like me, but then you still want to work with them. It's like you're with them, but you're also against them."

Her friend squinted back at her. "Piper, is that seriously so hard to wrap your head around? Do I _have_ to take a side?"

"Well... n- no, but..." She was having trouble pinning down her words. Blue was right. She just wished she could be right about something that she didn't have so many moral qualms with.

She rolled her eyes a bit. "Look, say what you will about them... but they're outsiders. They're different from the Commonwealth. And their moral code just... wears me down. Like the ghouls that got you so upset?"

"Yeah?"

"I think it's kind of like that with the Brotherhood. For me."

Sam took a step closer to her as they walked, putting an arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Piper. Look, they're behind us. We don't have to deal with them again. Let's just get you home."

Things went quiet between the two of them again. But Piper didn't mind. This close to Blue, how could she?

The radiation storm had left a clean and clear blue sky in its aftermath. The sun was low, casting everything in pale, early winter light. Still, its rays shone bright and powerful, warm and calming. Like Sam had been, curled up against her last night...

 _You stop that, Piper_. Everything seemed somehow able to remind her of her friend.

"Blue, would you mind if I talked a little more about..."

"Please do" Sam said, her face all smiles and support.

"Okay. So, like..." She looked around, as though her words and thoughts were circling around her. Her eyes randomly found themselves turning back to the redhead. She looked the woman up and down — her face, her body, her torso, her legs. The hammer on her back. The pistol by her side.

"So like, that laser gun! Why on _earth_ did you accept it? I thought you hated guns!"

"I... I do..." Sam admitted, stepping back away from Piper, and reaching down to draw the gun in question. She looked it over like an artifact, or something from a distant world.

"I guess it was in the way Danse talked about it," she continued. "What he said about protection. Something I would only use in _true need_. Coming from a soldier, I guess the feeling hit a little close to home."

"Close to...? What, you mean like your old life or something?"

"Yeah. Like Nate."

 _Nate_. The impossible topic. She wished she understood him better, if only so she could help Samantha cope with losing him. But she could never gauge if it was right or not for her to bring him up. Sometimes, Blue cracked jokes about him. Other times, his name brought her to tears.

 _Just drop it, Piper. She'll talk about him when she's ready_.

The reporter cleared her throat. "I guess... they can be alright, as people... Honestly, I'm worried most about what they could do. To all of us. The Commonwealth has no organized force to protect it. If the Brotherhood _wanted_ to? They could walk all over us."

"Why would they want to, though? What's in it for them?"

"That's what I can't put my finger on. But y'know... if I were Nicky, I'd say there's a mystery here, waiting to reveal itself."

Sam smirked. _"Nicky?"_

"Er, Valentine, yeah..."

They continued to walk together and argue back and forth about the Brotherhood's ideals. Honestly, Piper was glad for it. Blue's words, however much she disagreed with them, showed no sign of dampening their friendship. If anything, the conversation let her see into her friend more deeply. There were aspects of the woman that she wasn't wholly in support of, but still sought to understand. And Blue seemed to have no qualms with hearing her complaints.

It really was a welcome change of pace from how strongly opinionated most folks in the Commonwealth were, so unwilling to budge. It served as a reminder of how sturdy their connection was. It proved that they could disagree and still be thick as thieves. This wouldn't break them.

Somehow, Piper had a feeling nothing ever would.


	85. Chapter 85

Bullets whizzed past, screaming as they cut the air. All Sam felt was pain and panic. Half the raiders were dead, but the other half were yelling. Piper's voice was barely audible above the din.

 _"Blue! In here!"_

She followed her friend's words and gestures, practically diving into the old abandoned bus. _Piper, pinch me. I think I might be in another nightmare_.

"How the hell did this even happen?!" she stammered. "We were walking one minute, and suddenly _this!_ All around us!" What Sam would give to go five minutes back in time. For them to have walked a different set of roads to Diamond City. What she'd give to just be talking with her friend again. She'd take complaints about the Brotherhood of Steel over _this_ any day.

"That's how raiders do, Blue..." Piper spoke through hurried breaths. "No one sets an ambush better than they do. This group looks pretty desperate, too. They could try anything."

Sam nodded. After having Danse with them to clear out an entire building of Institute synths, she'd gotten used to having major firepower and protection at her side. Now a small band of raiders was making her heart pound.

But Piper had found them a great fortification. Honestly, she was a bit surprised the raiders hadn't taken this themselves.

Her friend pulled out a stimpak and tossed it across the stairwell to Sam, which she caught — if a bit reluctantly. Sticking the syringe into herself was always an unwelcome trip into the past, but she _had_ taken some pretty nasty hits out there, and she was losing blood. Those holes _needed_ to get patched up. She shut her eyes and clenched her teeth, as much to bear the momentary pain as to drive away the memories, and drove the needle right into her arm.

She felt better. With such rapidly acting medicine, how could she not? She gripped her hammer once again and nodded. Piper nodded back, and turned, firing out of the open, broken windows. She could pick off enemies while also being able to duck away from further injuries herself.

Two guys tried to storm their minitature castle, but Sam got the better of them both, thanks to her sledge. The first, Sam tripped up with a sweep to the legs, giving Piper the chance to take him out while he was on the ground. The second, a forward thrust with the mallet right into his solar plexus caused him to buckle over and die on the spot. _Desperate indeed_ , she thought. _These raiders are practically already on death's door_. Whether he'd been starved for food, or chems, or both, she couldn't say.

Quiet came. Had they gotten all of them? Sam's senses weren't keen enough for her to tell, but it _sounded_ like it. Piper smiled at her and nodded as if to say _good work_. She unloaded the old clip from her pistol, and reached for a spare when something between them made a just-audible _tink_.

Sam barely had time to act after she noticed the grenade — turning to dive sideways into a pair of seats, praying that the explosive was as improvised as it looked. Even at low-yield, the explosion rippled through the bus. Through her. She heard Piper's familiar voice let out an unfamiliar painful cry, followed by coughing.

And then — _"Hey! You okay?!"_

That _she_ was the first thought to go through her friend's mind... Sam could have grabbed the reporter and hugged her for a long time, in that disoriented moment of emotion. She tried to get her vision back, and then her bearings. When had another raider gotten in the bus with them?

She swung her hammer — clumsily, predictably — and missed. The raider took the chance to swing at Sam herself with something small but heavy. The pipe blurred past her, until it collided with her shoulder, and suddenly _everything_ felt wrong.

Sam dropped her melee weapon as her right hand grabbed her left arm, as though in some desperate bid to stop the newfound pain. The raider snarled at her and turned away. _That's it? You're just gonna leave me here to—?_

No. No, she had disabled her enough. Now, she was going after Piper. This really _was_ nightmare material.

She reached for her hammer, tried to heave it, but it was no use with only one functioning arm.

The raider closed the gap between herself and the reporter. Sam saw a flash of fear in Piper's eyes, and felt her blood run cold.

 _It's in defense_ , she told herself. _I'm doing it for her._ The words came like a rushed and sacriligous mantra. Samantha reached down and wrapped her hand around the pistol's grip.

The gun felt heavy in her hand — wether from reluctance or fatigue, she couldn't tell. But all of this got proccessed in a fraction of a second. She saw the fear in Piper's eyes as she tried, with crippled legs, to scurry backwards. The raider raised its arm, brandishing again the rusty metal pipe.

 _Shoot only in true need._

And so, Samantha pulled the trigger.

The gun kicked back in her hand — an unexpected amount of recoil, for firing nothing but a concentrated beam of light. But the result certainly seemed to pack a punch, as the raider immediately droped her weapon to the floor in sudden shock. That was shot number _one,_ and Sam hit her clean between the shoulderblades. But it hadn't ended her.

 _Two_ and _three_ were misses, but _four_ went right into her leg, dropping her to the ground. Sam advanced on her, gun still drawn, trying with all her might to focus on her actions. The woman rolled over just in time for Sam to pin her down in place, foot pressed against her ribcage. Sam likewise pressed the muzzle of the firearm right into the raider's forehead. _Nobody deserves this_. But there was no other way.

Eyes full of hate stared up at her.

 _Five_.

And there was silence.


	86. Chapter 86

The smell of cooked flesh filled the air between them. Piper's own body was still in shock from all the pain, but also from everything that had just happened. She'd forgotten what a difference a grenade could make in a firefight.

She replayed the events in her mind — the blast of the explosion. The shock and shrapnel that had caused her legs to give out from under her. Her sudden jolt of fear for Blue, watching her arm get wracked like that. And then, that last, manic raider, coming in and after her.

But then Sam just had to go and be there for her, like she had been since the moment they'd first met. Even when it came at the redhead's own emotional expense. Piper was in minor shock from that as well. Her friend had gone from hating guns, to _having_ one, to using it to _kill_ someone. _I really hope you don't have another breakdown, Blue_.

And in fairness, the woman did look about ready to puke. From the smell, from the sight, from her own bodily pain. She holstered the gun and grabbed her mallet, then came walking up to Piper's side. She slammed a stim into her without even checking. She didn't mind. They were past the point of needing such formalities. And — _wow_ , the rush of feeling stimpak tonic flow through her veins. It was almost enough sometimes to make her consider trying chems.

"Can't say I'm usually one to kiss a man," Piper joked with a painful smile. "But for the man who invented stims... I might make an exception..."

"Could have been a woman who invented them." Sam reached back behind her. It looked like she was trying to get her hammer strapped to her back. But her left arm remained limp and functionless.

"Blue, your—"

Sam shook her head. "Deal with it later. Can you stand?"

"With a little help... I think so, yeah."

Blue grabbed Piper's right arm with her own, and pulled with all the strength that she seemed to have left in her. Piper wrapped one arm around her partner's shoulders. The woman reciprocated with an arm around her waist.

"Hey... thanks, Blue. For doing what you did. To take that raider down." She laughed dryly. "Only in _true need_ , huh?"

"Something like that, anyway," the redhead chuckled back, clearly worse for wear.

They hobbled together out of the abandoned bus. "Hey! Check to see if there are any of those grenades left!"

 _"Later,"_ Sam stressed. "We can come back when we're better. Right now, you and I need proper shelter. Know anything nearby?"

"Uh, I think there's an old shop just down the way. It's boarded up, so most folks just ignore it, but I found a way to get in, once."

"Perfect." Her friend smiled at her as they make their way along. "Look at you and your knowledge of the world. I can always count on you, can't I?"

Piper was taken aback by the vote of confidence. _That sounds like something I'd have said to you, Blue._

* * *

It was dark in the abandoned building, even in the middle of the day. Piper didn't see, or hear, or _smell_ anything indicative of ferals. But still, she had her pistol at the ready.

Sam toggled on her Pip-Boy's flashlight. The stark, concentrated light cast everything in an eerie hue. Still, it was better than stumbling in the dark. "Don't suppose there'd be a working light switch around here?" Piper joked.

"That's actually not a bad idea," Sam answered. "If this place hasn't been used since the war, there might still be juice left in the backup battery. We just need to find the fusebox..."

They searched for a few minutes, until Blue found what she was looking for. "Cross your fingers," she said. Piper raised an eyebrow. _That another old-world saying of yours?_

The woman let go of Piper for a second and reached up with her one good arm to flip the heavy switch. Lights overhead began to flicker on. Several of the bulbs blew out in the first few seconds, but about half of them held.

"Now who's the knowledgable one?" Piper teased.

Sam smiled, then leaned against the wall and slumped down to the floor. Piper eased herself down next to her. "Blue, you ok?"

"Yeah" she said through gritted teeth. "Just, my arm, like you said..."

She nodded and scooted over to inspect it. "Doesn't look broken. You mind if I try something?"

Sam shook her head.

"Alright, Blue..." she said with an unexpected smile. It always, _always_ made her happy when she got to use her little nickname. "Relax."

She started working on Samantha's arm, turning it slowly across each axis. She'd never gotten any professional training, but she'd relocated her own arm once or twice before. If that was what her friend had wrong with her, Piper was pretty confident she'd be able to set it straight.

Her mind raced for something to converse about, to keep her friend distracted. "Kind of amazed, to be honest. that there's a working generator in here."

"That's old-world nuclear tech for you, I guess."

Sam looked down at her. "What're you doing, Piper?"

"You're gonna have a pretty nasty bruise from where that raider struck you," she explained, "But I don't think she broke your arm. I think she popped it. I'm trying to socket it back in"

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Sam laughed. "The way you're turning my arm and talking 'bout it... you make it sound like lockpicking."

"Oh my _god_ , Blue," Piper rebutted, trying to focus on her work. But the more she thought about it, the more she agreed. The whole thing _was_ a little silly. Pretty soon, she started laughing too. Perhaps from the adrenaline, if nothing else.

And so they sat there, each of them beaten, each of them more worried for the other than themselves. Laughing.

 _This_ , Piper thought. _This is why we make a good team_.


	87. Chapter 87

In less than a day, they'd bickered with each other and battled side by side. They'd run and hid, been found, been hurt, hurt back, and healed together. They'd had each other's backs at times and in ways that few others would have matched.

They were on their way back again to Diamond City. They took their time, walking slowly, smiling as they went. They weren't holding hands, but for the happiness that each of them felt around the other, they might as well have been.

Piper snapped her fingers. "Blue! Your Pip-Boy has a radio, right? Why don't you put Travis on?"

"See if he's any better now?" She liked Piper's ideas. Moreover, she liked Piper's voice. She raised her Pip-Boy, and dialed in the frequency for Diamond City Radio.

"Hey, how's the arm?

"Good enough for me to do this!" She gestured to the computer, held steady at eye-level. "Doesn't even feel sore."

The reporter beamed. Sam turned back to the Pip-Boy, and powered on the volume.

 _"Train, train! Choo, choo!..."_

Samantha laughed. "Piper, check it out! It's Magnolia again!"

"Ha! Can't get enough of her, huh?"

 _Like a certain someone else I know_. They listened to the song together, walking side by side. Neither of them worried anymore about an ambush. Sam's pack had been filled to the _brim_ with grenades, after the raider camp they'd accidentally cleared.

During an instrumental section, Piper allowed herself to start talking over the song. "So, yeah, DCR plays her work sometimes. Pleasant surprise, huh? That was such a _fun_ night, Blue. I'd love to do that again."

"Maybe after we get settled back in Diamond City? Tomorrow night, perhaps?" Sam raised a hopeful eyebrow.

"Careful, or I'll hold you to that!" Piper gave her a playful little punch on her shoulder. Her not-recently-relocated shoulder.

Sam felt warm and energized inside. Even moreso, at the prospect of another night out. A night of just the two of them. No fighting, no worrying, no getting caught up in the needs of others.

The radio had transitioned to a different Third Rail song. _"Have you got history, that needs erasing?..."_

Sam thought back to when she'd heard this same song live the other night. The look that she and Piper had shared. She felt something begin to flutter in her chest.

"But uh... yeah, the arm feels great. A _whole_ lot better than I thought it would."

"I'm glad." Piper shuffled her feet a little as they went. "I... only sort of knew what I was doing."

"Well hey!" Sam laughed. "I'm just glad you knew and acted on as much as you _did_. Medicine's never been my strength. More a tools person than a people person."

"You're _totally_ a people person," the reporter teased.

"Oh— you know what I mean!"

"Yeah, yeah. Well you're welcome, Blue. I'm just glad I was able to help."

"Another caravan skill of yours?"

 _"Oh yeah._ Who'd have guessed I'd learn so much, just from walking around with a bunch of people?"

"Can't say I'm that surprised," Sam gave her a little elbow-nudge. "I've learned plenty just from traveling with you."

The radio had switched over to its usual playlist while they had been talking. Sam felt a sudden heaviness in her. Old songs like these... old, distant memories of time spent with friends came back to her. Memories of Nate and so many other loved ones, lost to time.

"Hey, can... can we turn this off? Travis doesn't seem to be getting on the com right now, anyway."

"Oh, yeah Blue, sure!"

They made idle small talk the rest of the way back. Each of them was more than happy to listen to the other. Piper's voice was better than any music.

The sun was hanging low in the sky by the time they got past security and were safely behind the Wall. They turned to face each other. This was always the hardest part. Parting ways after an adventure with her friend was nothing new to Sam. Still, that didn't make it any easier.

For a second, she considered taking Piper by the hand. Or heck, maybe even pulling her into a full-on hug. But her friend took the initiative with words. "So... tomorrow? Yeah? Another round of drinks?"

Sam covered up her feelings with a smirk. "Oh come on, more than one round!"

"Alright, alright," Piper relented. "But even so, I'm buying!"

"Hah, sure. Dugout Inn? Say, meet there at sundown?"

"Sounds good to me. You good with it, Blue?"

"It's a date!"

For a second, silence. Then, her friend's eyes widened a little. Then Sam felt her skin run hot. "Uh, _I mean—"_

"No, right," Piper stepped in. "Not like a _date_ , date,"

"Yeah" Sam said, trying to smile, "Yeah, 'cause that would mean, y'know, like..."

"Of course, but we're... we're not..."

Sam nodded. _Ugh_. Her Pip-Boy didn't have a _turn invisible_ switch by any chance, did it?

"Still, I'll see you then, alright?"

"Sure," Piper said, fidgeting with her cap. "Sundown. Dugout. I, uh... I won't wear anything special."

"Me neither," Sam coughed, rapidly turning to head inside and escape the flustered conversation.

For a second, she considered sharing a drink with Vadim to help cool off, but decided to save it for tomorrow evening. She waved to the bartender, who cheerfully waved back — but otherwise, Sam turned in pretty well directly. _You could use the extra rest_.

Lying down on the bed of her rented room, her body seemed to pulse with nervous excitement. She couldn't put a finger on what had gotten her heart going at such a strong and steady rhythm. Maybe she was just glad to be back someplace familiar. Unless—

 _Kellogg_. It was Kellogg, and that impossible door. She was back, with a skill and confidence she'd lacked the last time. She'd call for Nick first thing tomorrow. _But for now, Red... rest. You've earned it_.


	88. Chapter 88

"Sis, do I _really_ need to do the dishes tonight?"

"As much as I need to do laundry. I'm tired too, Nat. Come on, we'll do it together."

They sat down on opposite sides of the coffee table, where Piper had filled a few buckets and bowls with soap and water. Her little sister groaned, but complied.

They washed and worked in silence for a minute, while Piper pulled her thoughts together.

"Nat... Nat, when I got in, I looked at your report card."

Her little sister nearly dropped the plate that she was cleaning off. But she didn't look up. "Here we go..."

Piper sighed. The fact that she even _had_ a reputation for these conversations bothered her. _You think I enjoy this?_

"Seriously though. Sis, your grades—"

"What do they _matter_ , Piper? Everything we learn in school is _pointless!_ Mr. Zwicky doesn't talk about anything important, and Edna treats us all like we're still _six_. History's a _joke_. And when have you _ever_ had to use math, sis? _Be honest!"_

Piper tried to avoid her sister's gaze. Math was her worst subject by far. But she had always chalked that up to having no formal education. It was part of why she'd wanted to move to Diamond City — so Nat wouldn't have to live through all the problems she had faced herself, along the way.

How could she explain that though, while still being on her good side? _Blue, where are you when I need you? You could get this through to her_. She took a few deep breaths, and turned back to her sister, and her work. She'd try her best.

"Nat, I didn't _get_ to study things like history or math. Dad _barely_ taught me how to read and write. I didn't go to school because there _wasn't one_. But I still learned things. I still got taught."

"Yeah, back when we were with the _caravans_ , and then by _Mr. Valentine_. I know, Piper. We've been _through_ this!"

"If we've been through it, then you should understand!"

"I _do_ understand! _You're_ the one who isn't listening!"

Piper leaned forward, shoving her coat and scarf completely underwater. _"Fine_ _Nat_. I'm _listening_. What is it that you want so badly?"

"To not be locked up, stuck in here all the time! I want to go out into the Commonwealth with you! To _be_ like you! You're so... you're _cool_ , sis! And the world out there? Piper, it sounds _awesome."_

 _Awesome?_ "Nat. No. The Commonwealth _isn't_ Diamond City. You remember Bunker Hill?"

Nat's eyes shifted side to side. She grimaced. "Mostly?"

"It isn't even that. It's _dangerous_ out there on a _completely_ different level. Why, just today we... actually, you know what? Here, _look!"_

Piper left her clothes to soak for a second, standing up and hiking up her pants. Nat recoiled. "Sis! Your legs! They're all bloody and gross!"

The older sister nodded sternly. "I barely dodged a grenade today, Nat. Honestly, I'm lucky that I've still got legs at all. And this is what they look like _after_ a pair of stims. Took Blue and I an hour to pull all the shrapnel out."

She sat back down and returned to her washing and her scrubbing. Nat slowly crawled back over to the pile of dishes she had yet to do.

"But... but nothing actually went _wrong_ , right sis? You and Lady, you both made it back. You _always_ do."

"And what if one day we _didn't_ , Nat? What if one day we headed out, and you just never heard from us again? I can't risk losing you like that."

Nat finished rinsing off a mug and slammed it down. "But you'll risk _me_ losing _you_ , huh?"

"Nat, I go out there because I _have to_. Because we make our _living_ by finding things to write about. You think I _enjoy_ risking you losing me? You think I _want_ to end up like... like _Mom_ , or—"

But she choked on her own words. Piper stared down into the bucket of suds she was doing laundry in. Tiny ripples were radiating out from where her arms met the soapy water. _Wow... I'm actually shaking_.

Without a word, Nat got up and rinsed her hands. She walked off, disappearing into her room. A moment later, she came back — holding a box of sugar bombs.

"Piper," she instructed. "Couch."

The woman wiped her hands dry and did as the girl told her. Nat sat down beside her, shoving the box of cereal into her older sister's arms.

"I get scared every time you go out there, sis. I still leave the lights on every night, in case you come home while I'm asleep..."

Piper laughed timidly, still trembling a little from her own emotions. _Well, that would explain some of the power bill..._

"But I have hope," the young girl continued. "That's what you always taught me to do. I _believe_ in you, sis. Even when _you_ don't."

If Piper didn't have a mouthful of cereal, she might've cried. "Nat..."

"Hold up! You know _why_ I believe in you so much?"

Piper sighed and smiled. She tried her best to reopen her heart. It was always hard after they raised voices at each other. "Why, Nat?"

 _"Because_ , you _learned_ how to look after yourself. And you did _that_ by going out and _doing things_. Piper, if I stay in here and learn from school the whole time, when am I supposed to ever learn the things that really matter? The things that matter _out there?"_

Nat scooted closer and wrapped her arms around Piper's waist. "I love you sis... but you gotta let me _grow up_. I can't stay in Diamond City my whole life!"

Piper sighed. Was she just too tired to rationally argue back? No, Nat really had a valid point. She returned her sister's hug, allowing her eyes to close.

"I'll work on it, Nat. Okay? I promise you, I will."


	89. Chapter 89

Sam woke up feeling better than she had in a long time. No dreams, no _nightmares_ , just... rest. She stepped out of her room and went over to the bar, pulling up a seat before Vadim could even notice her.

"Ah! There you are! My favorite little warrior!"

"Watch who you call little," Sam teased. "I took Bull down in that fight, didn't I?"

The bartender tilted his head side to side. "Perhaps, though perhaps you forget important part. Part involving your friend and empty liquor bottle..."

"Oh yeah, that _is_ right!" Sam chuckled a little as she thought back through the entire scene. Bookended by desperate raiders and Institute synths on one end, and... god, _Vault 114_ on the other, that little barfight felt so trivial in the broader scheme of things.

She was happy and content, but also sore. Not as sore as after getting back from 114, but close. And whereas after the Vault she'd been left feeling scared and alone, _now_ , her excitement burned bright and strong. She was happy. Piper was happy. Heck, Vadim and even _Travis_ were both happy. Things seemed actually alright for once.

And to top it all, she had gotten exactly what she'd hoped for — field experience across a broad spectrum of locks. She couldn't guarantee that she'd be able to pick the lock to the apartment, but she was ready to try. She'd had the spirit for it all along — now she had the skill.

But she could afford a few more moments' idle chatter, if just to check in with her accidental landlord. "Any trouble afterwards? From Bull or his cronies?"

"He raised some hell on his way out. Said it was... not what he signed up for. You know the type."

Sam nodded. "Let me know if they do come back. I wouldn't mind a second round with that man."

Catching her own words, she leaned in a little. "Er... don't let Piper know I said that."

Vadim leaned in to match. "Do not worry. Vadim is confidential, just like doctor! No, like secret agent!"

Sam rolled her eyes, but thought of one last thing to ask before she left. "Hey, speaking of Piper, she and I are thinking of coming over for a drink tonight. Anything you'd recommend?"

* * *

The day was wonderful. Cold, but gorgeous. Sam was riding high, looking forward to finally making progress in this ongoing journey of hers and Valentine's. _I'm coming for you, Shaun. Don't you dare think I've forgotten you_.

She rounded a corner of Diamond City's inner avenues — she'd remembered the way herself, this time — and nearly ran right into the synth that she was looking for.

"Oh! Hi Nick!" She straightened herself up. "I mean, Detective..."

"No need for that." Nick waved his hand, dismissing the formality. "I'd heard that you were back in town. Figured I'd come looking for you. I analyzed the lock to Kellogg's while you were out. Think I know, now, what we were doing wrong, why we couldn't make it sing. But I need your fine organic motor control."

He looked down at himself in shame. "Damn servos for hands. They're good for most tasks, but I'm no Gen 3."

 _Gen what?_ But Sam didn't press the matter — she was too excited about the lock. "Can we go get Piper, first?" she asked.

Nick nodded understandingly. "Sure, sure. This is your show after all."

The detective followed her through town. "Mr. Miles is sounding better. I gather you might be partially responsible for that."

"Travis? I guess I spurred him on a little." Sam smiled, thinking back to her long walk with Piper back into town — trying, no matter how in vain, to catch a snippet of his voice on air. "Didn't know you listened to DCR, Nick. Do you even have a radio in your office?"

"Don't need one." Nick simply tapped his skull. "Built-in reciever. Broad-spectrum, and great range. Why, I could tune in to the Silver Shroud right now, if I wanted to."

Sam raised both eyebrows. Inhuman though Nick was, she couldn't deny that he was also just really, really cool. "And _do_ you want to, right now?"

"Not with you for company." Nick's tone was deadpan, but she had no reason to doubt his honesty. "You're an interesting case, in more ways than one."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, it's not exactly every day you run into someone who was alive before the bombs."

"I've met a couple others," Sam admitted. "Most of them don't seem too pleased about what's happened. I think we're doing a pretty good job. What about you?"

"Don't worry about what I think. I'm just glad to hear you're holding on to that positive worldview. The Commonwealth has a way of sinking its claws into people, sucking all the color from their lives. Hasn't seemed that way with you, though."

Sam smiled at him earnestly. "Thank you Nick. That means a lot"

They arrived at the door to Publick Occurrences. Sam turned to Nick. "Maybe we should wait. She had a rough day, yesterday. Give her time to step outside on her own terms, you know?"

"I _do_ know. You and Ms. Wright seem to understand each other well."

"Ms. Wright? _Now_ who's using formalities?"

"That's how I speak of everyone, professionally..." his face twitched briefly as he tipped his hat "...Ms. Red."

Sam laughed. Not much, but still, a little. Not many folks besides Piper were able to bring true laughter out in her.

"You and she go way back, don't you? _Mr. Valentine_."

"About as far back as we can. She was a teenager when she got here. Guess you could say I took her under my wing."

"As your apprentice, right? She's told me a story or two."

"Nothing too compromising, I hope."

"Hey, I'm still coming to you for help, aren't I?"

The man kicked back, for the first time seeming genuinely _comfortable_ around her. "That you are, kid."


	90. Chapter 90

Piper woke up just in time to lose track of who or what she was dreaming about. She was disoriented, confused, annoyed at letting the dream slip away from her again. Her neck was sore. _All of her_ was sore, actually. But that wasn't anything new.

What did catch her by surprise was when she opened her eyes, and found that she had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs. "Uh... Nat?"

No response came. _Right, she's probably off at school_. At least she was still _going_ to school. She remembered most of her argument with Nat from the previous night. Evidently, it had gone on so long that she had fallen asleep in the middle of it.

She had no idea how late it was — their only clock was upstairs, and upstairs might as well have been the top of Trinity Tower, for all that Piper wanted to get up and move.

She looked down over herself. One of Nat's old blankets was draped over her. _Oh, sis..._ And after the little spat they'd had the previous night, too. Had she seriously fallen asleep down here?

"Guess I pushed myself more than I realized." A lot _had_ happened the past few days. She was looking forward to taking it easy again, even if just for another day or two.

She forced herself up, and looked around for something to put on. All her clothes were draped over the radiator. For the love of her, she couldn't remember if she'd put them up to dry herself... or if Nat had simply been _that thoughtful_.

Everything had dried out to the touch, overnight. Except her trench coat. It was still a little damp, but she could live with that. _Unless it's windy out_. But it was no use holeing up in here. She wanted to go check in with Blue.

Thinking of Blue made her think back to the tiff she'd gotten in last night. The truth she couldn't bring herself to share with Nat was — yes, it's dangerous out there. But being out there with Samantha, it suddenly was bearable. More than that, she actually _enjoyed_ going out and getting into trouble, into _danger_ , with the mysterious redhead.

She got herself dressed and checked her reflection in the bucket full of soapy water, still lying on the floor. Her hair wasn't as well-kempt as she wished it were, but otherwise, she could live with her appearance. A few deep breaths to hone in on her _Publick Occurrences_ persona, and she was out the door.

"Hey, there she is!"

Piper was caught off guard for a second by the voice. Nick and Blue were sitting together on a bench outside the All-Faiths Chapel. She walked over, smiling — at which one of them more, she couldn't say.

"How's our client, Nicky?"

"More confident, I'd say." Nick stood up first, followed by their mutual friend. "Thinks she has what it takes to get that door open. Maybe net us another clue or two about our wanted man."

"Hey, no promises!"

"Well what're we waiting for?" Piper asked. "Let's go!

Sam started to move, then stopped, snapping her fingers in sudden realization. "Wow, I got so excited this morning, I left my tools back in the Dugout. Hang on!"

She ran past the two of them, turning down First Street and leaving Piper alone with her old mentor. The synth shot her a knowing gaze.

"You," he flatly stated. "She was waiting on _you_ , Piper."

Piper blinked, furrowing her eyebrows. "No... seriously? But you two are the ones actually doing all the work. Why would she want to wait on me?"

For a second, Nick _actually smiled_ at her. "I think you know why."

* * *

Sam and Nick crouched down together outside Kellogg's door. Piper stood watch while they talked strategy. It wasn't much, but she could keep a weather eye out for anyone suspicious of what they were up to. That much was nothing new to her. She'd played the role of lookout plenty of times before.

Valentine's voice was comforting to listen to, even if his words were foreign. "Don't think about the pins the way you normally would. Try switching up your angle when you press the— well, never mind that. You did bring spares, right?"

Piper loved listening to the two of them collaborating. She just wished there was more she could do than stand around and admire. She thought back to times when this sort of feeling had come over her before. Vault 114, when the two old-timers had gotten their first real chance to talk. And before that, Concord, talking with that soldier from the Minutemen. What was his name? Preston something? _I wonder what he's up to, if he's okay_.

Maybe if they ever got to visit Sanctuary Hills together, she'd find out. But their visits up north seemed to be practically cursed. And Blue was certainly distracting enough to be around, most of the time.

How much things had changed between them, and over no more than a couple weeks. Blue had seemed like such a quiet, introverted type when they'd first met. But the more she got to know the woman, the more she thought that it was just a shell. On the inside, she seemed a lot more sociable. She liked getting to know people, and she wanted everyone to work together. She had a volatile side, _but don't you too, Piper? You just cover it up in your own way, like everybody else does_.

Her thoughts was interrupted by a sudden series of clicks. "I think we're in!"

The door swung open. Nick went in first, to clear for traps. Piper patted her friend on the back as she stood up. "Can't keep you out, huh?"

"Not anymore." Blue's smile caused her to light up inside.

Samantha stepped in, followed by Piper, closing the door shut behind. All her other thoughts could wait. She'd have plenty of time to talk with Blue that evening.


	91. Chapter 91

Sam stepped back outside of Kellogg's house. She didn't feel dejected, so much as just... _confused_. All that work to get his apartment open and what did they have to show for it? _Nothing_. It didn't add up.

Valentine stepped out as well, closing the door behind him. "Ms. Wright says she's gonna look around in there a little more."

 _Can't you just call her Piper?_ Sam answered with a nod, and nothing else. She was a little bitter from the dead end they had evidently come across.

Nick seemed to pick up on the feeling. He followed her as she walked down the stairs and found a place to sit. To gather up her thoughts. The synth sat down beside her, and pulled out a cigarette. "You don't mind, right?"

Sam blinked. "Does smoking even _do_ anything to you?"

"Not even remotely. But it makes me feel a bit more human, if that doesn't creep you out."

 _I guess I've seen stranger things_. And, she guessed, if it didn't mess him up like it would mess up Piper... She waved a hand at him. "Go right ahead."

Nick briefly stuck the cigarette into his exposed robotic arm. Sam couldn't tell if he was using the smoke to bridge a circuit, or if he touched it against a hot, live wire or _what_ , but the cigarette ignited.

She found herself feeling sympathy for the synth, wishing she could reach out to him — maybe take his hand like piper sometimes took hers. _I know what it's like to not belong,_ she imagined herself saying. _I know what it's like to not fit in_.

But she didn't feel comfortable bringing it up with him. Not in such an emotional manner, anyway. They sat in something of an awkward quiet for a second. _Nick's probably just gathering his thoughts_.

"If you ask me, I think we all should just come back tomorrow. You've had a long bunch of days. Heck, _I don't even sleep_ , and sometimes I need to back away and let the circuits flush themselves."

He looked her in the eyes. She found it hard to maintain contact with the glowing amber rings that were supposed to be his irises. But she tried her best. The last thing she wanted now was to add to the discrimination he surely faced.

"Take the rest of today easy," he continued. "Go do something fun, something to decompress. That's my professional recommentation."

Sam leaned her head back on the bench. "I think that's very wise. Thank you, Nick."

But the detective apparently had more to say. "You holding up alright? I mean, with everything that's happened so quickly. The past few days, the past few weeks. I... know it can be quite a lot."

"Yes, actually!" Sam answered, honestly and reassuringly. "It was rough for a while, but Piper's helped me through it. She's an incredible friend, Nick. I don't know what I'd have done if I hadn't met her."

"She's a bright soul, with a hell of a brain. Not unlike yourself, in many respects."

Sam caught herself blushing, but didn't try to hide it. It didn't feel so awkward, allowing her emotions to show in front of the machine.

The detective held onto his hat and stood. "Well, I'm available if you ever need a third party to confide in. I may only be a robot, but I'm a professional at picking up on things. And I think I have a better sense of where you're coming from than you'd imagine."

Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. "That's not the first time you've alluded to your past, Valentine..."

 _"My_ past? Oh, no, don't worry about that..."

"As you wish." Sam stood up and turned to face him. "But consider your offer heard, and appreciated. And offered right back at you."

She exchanged final parting words with the detective and made her way out. _Something to decompress huh? I have just the idea._

* * *

The blowtorch was hot and hard to control, and the protective gear she had borrowed from Commonwealth Weaponry was a little big on her. But she was doing it. She was actually welding metal scraps together into armor.

 _This is so much better than just selling everything for caps_ , she thought. And after that last fight, with Sam's crippled arm and Piper's shrapneled legs, she figured they could both use a little extra limb protection. Sam had no idea how much this stuff would actually work — and god, it looked like the sort of thing a _raider_ might consider wearing. She just hoped that wouldn't turn Piper off from it too much.

She finished fusing a series of small iron rods together, and shut off the torch to take a little break, when she noticed her Pip-Boy beeping at her. She took a look at it to check the time. _Oh wow, yeah, I really should get going_.

"Hey Arturo?" Sam called from the workbench. "Could I leave some of my stuff here with you overnight? I just realized I've got someplace to be."

"Of course! Of course..." The shopkeeper pointed to a crate where she could drop off her half-finished armor. "By the way, did I see you working on a _laser pistol_ earlier?"

Samantha nodded. "That's right. Just a small aesthetic change though."

"Ah! Adding those personal touches, eh?"

"Something like that." She dropped a few caps off on the counter to express her thanks, and took off for the entrance of the Dugout.

Piper was already seated on a bench outside, scribbling something down in a notebook. Sam instantly felt bad for making her wait, no matter how happy she seemed to be writing. When the reporter looked up and noticed her, her expression conveyed nothing but excitement.

"So, do I get you to myself now?"

Sam smiled back. "Anytime you ask, Piper. You know that, right?"

Piper smiled back as they stepped into the Dugout Inn. "I'm starting to."


	92. Chapter 92

Piper and Blue were on their second round of drinks, and already as blissfully lost in each other's company as they had gotten over the _whole_ of their night out at the Third Rail. It meant a lot for Piper to be drinking in the safety of Diamond City. And that happiness seemed to be rubbing off on Blue, as well.

"So what were all those notes about? When I first caught up with you, outside?"

"Oh," she said dismissively, "just planning out the next article for the paper." _Or two... or five..._

They laughed. They smiled. They clinked glasses. The evening had been going great. Great enough for Piper to feel like taking something of a gamble. "Blue?"

"Yes, Piper?"

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

Blue's smile faded. Not out of shock or disappointment — simply from focus. Piper appreciated it. "Let me guess. The guns thing?"

"Only if you're willing to, ok?"

Sam nodded, and closed her eyes for a minute. "Honestly? I think I'm _scared_. Of what guns are. What they can do. What they can end up _meaning_. Especially in wrong, malignant hands. I guess that's kind of dumb for me to say, when I have no problem with a hammer..."

"Don't worry about what makes sense," Piper said, reaching out and taking the woman's hand to comfort her. "Just... say what comes to mind. This is all off record."

Sam laughed. "Thanks."

Piper rested her chin on her free hand, listening intently.

"When I grew up, we were taught that guns were powerful and dangerous. Not just anyone could have one. You only got a gun... you only _shot_ a gun... in very dire circumstances. Sure, there were toys, but even as a kid, I understood the difference. Real guns were only used by soldiers, or murderers."

The redhead sighed, and took a swig. Piper just wondered where this was going.

"As I got older, I started having trouble telling them apart. Propaganda boiled over into _hate_. Nate's friends, they stopped talking about fighting. They started talking about _killing_. Killing for its _own sake_. It was toxic. And it only escalated. Every year, things got more out-of-hand. More fear. More war. More guns. I guess the three of them all kind of got wrapped up into one for me."

"So guns stopped being a tool to you, and started being—"

"A symbol. Of hate."

"But, Blue, didn't you _marry_ a soldier? I- I'm sorry, if you don't want to talk about him, I just don't see how..."

"No, it's alright." Sam gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, he was a soldier. But he was a _person_ , too, and he had a kind heart, when he wasn't on the battlefield. He wasn't in it for the violence. He never _wanted_ to kill. We met when I was still in undergrad. His academy... it was in the same town. We would talk late into the night sometimes, when he had leave. I saw how much he cared, beneath the uniform."

"Right. The anti-war songs."

"Exactly! He used a gun because... well, because he was ordered to. And _believe me_ , we fought about it. I begged him to quit. To desert. To run away with me. But he was an idealist. He believed in something bigger than the both of us. Said he was fighting for peace, so the rest of us would never have to."

Piper sat and thought for a minute, piecing everything together in her mind.

"It's an admirable moral," she said at last, "but... Blue, you're applying it all wrong."

Sam raised an eyebrow, listening.

"Ideas don't need to be tied to matter. All this symbolism you're talking about... you may have had that kind of luxury before the War, but... for us, firing a gun isn't about hate, or violence, or _anything_. A gun is just a _gun_. We use it to its own end and then put it away."

Sam opened her mouth, but Piper shushed her. "Blue, you need to hear this. _You can use guns for good_. You made things a _whole_ lot easier when you shot that raider. That was a _good thing_ , and I'm glad to know that I can trust you to be there for me, even if it means using a gun. So frame it in a different light. A positive light. Think about what Danse said. What _you_ said."

"Funny you should mention that," Sam reached down by her side and pulled out the laser pistol Piper had alluded to, setting it on the table in-between then. On the side of the square barrel, she had engraved two words: _True Need._

"Oh wow," Piper remarked. "I guess you're really sticking by that gun then, huh? Marking it like that? Making it your own?"

"I was thinking I might give it a try. But hey... thank you for listening. And for not judging. And... and for trying to help me leave my stupid tendencies behind."

 _"Of course, Blue!"_ Piper grabbed both of her friends' hands and squeezed. "I'm not asking you to become a commando overnight. Just... be willing to use one when there's no other way."

"Hence the name." Sam smiled and finished off her drink. "Thank you Piper. You get me in ways I don't think anyone else could."

The reporter blushed, and opened her mouth to say something. _Anything_.

"I, uh... guess it's my turn now, huh? To talk about something personal and serious?"

"Only if you want to." Blue tipped her empty cup towards her, smiling.

Piper swirled the last bit of booze around in her own glass. _I'm gonna have to order another round, at this rate_. Or two... or five...

 _It's not a confession, Piper. Just talk to her. Tell her about Nat._

"Yeah, I think I want to." She finished her drink and pulled her thoughts together. Her eyes met Sam's. They were full of nothing but trust and care.

"So, you're not an idiot..."


	93. Chapter 93

Samantha woke up in the Dugout by herself, and immediately felt stupid.

 _You were ridiculous last night_. Flirting with her best — her _only_ — friend? It was stupid. It was wrong. She'd meant the whole thing as a tease, a playful jab, a throwaway question neither of them had to answer. What would it even _mean_ for them to be more than just friends? What would Nate have thought, if he had been there?

Realistically? He would have laughed. Reminded her to get her mind off things. To focus on something besides herself. And he'd be right, just like he'd been right every time. Left to her own devices, she would spin her gears until they burned. There was no need for that. This was simple. This was easy _. Just get her off your mind for a little while_.

Maybe she was being too emotional about it all. Or maybe it was the headache she discovered as she tried to leave the bed.

 _Wow. Haven't had a proper one of these in years_. Centuries, technically, but she wasn't in the mood to think that way. Or really think at all. Had they seriously had _that_ many drinks? Maybe the Dugout just served stronger alcohol. At least she had a history with hangovers. She knew this wouldn't last the morning.

She pressed her hands into her temples and tried to get her bearings. She could see her shoes at the side of the bed. They were getting pretty worn down, not that she could blame them — the worst terrain they'd been intended for were _stairs_. Maybe she could go to Fallon's a find herself a pair of boots. They probably would help a lot, especially if she planned on going off adventuring farther afield.

Not that she had any such plans of her own. But she did have a suspicion that her friend would want to go out with her more. Piper seemed to have a real talent for finding trouble herself, with or without Sam by her side. It was the woman's _job,_ after all. Sam was merely following her along, right?

She laughed at herself. _Now who's glad to be along for the ride?_

* * *

The sky was bright, the air was cold, and Sam quietly cursed them both. Breathing helped, except for how it gave her chills. She thought back to her first radiation storm — how she had stumbled in, a confused wreck. Even then, the reporter had been sweet and caring. Sam had no idea what sort of tonic she had slipped her, but it had worked. _What I'd give for a refreshing beverage like that, right now_.

But as much as she wanted to turn left, and pay her friend a visit, a nagging doubt had taken root in her. _Leave her be, Sam. You can do this by yourself. She doesn't need to solve your every problem_. And so instead, she turned right.

Her steps were slow and her head still throbbed. Today was definitely getting off to a pretty shaky start, but she knew it was all in payment for last night. And last night had been _so_ worth it. She would love to do that with Piper again. The drinking wasn't even that important. It was the talking. The sharing. The bond.

She looked up, raising one hand to block the sun. In piercing neon blue, the letters "DCR" glowed above the rusty old RV. Was this really Travis' home? Publick Occurrences was practically a _mansion_ next to this.

People had so little, these days. And yet they worked so much harder than anyone she'd known in her time. She thought about Abbott, and his home, barely a toolshed. She should visit him again, one of these days. Get his thoughts again. He'd done nothing but good by her in the past.

She knocked on the door. It opened a crack, revealing a familiar face within. His voice was practically a wimper. "H- hello?"

"Hi, Travis. It's me, Samantha. From the Dugout?"

"Oh, uh, h- _hey!"_ He pulled the door open and stood up tall and proud, his voice dropping down a notch in tone and up a notch in confidence. "Come on in!"

Sam smiled, as much from the improvement in his mood as from how dimly lit his house was. It was a welcome reprieve from the outdoors, and a good place for her to chase away the remainder of this headache. She winced, though, as he shut the door behind her.

He stopped for a second and checked his confidence. "Uh... there's... there's n- nothing wrong, though, right?"

 _Oh Travis_. Sam wished she could comfortably reach out and take his hand, like she might take Piper's when the woman needed reassurance. The young man clearly still had a little worry left in him.

She put her smile back on, for his sake as much as her own. "No Travis, not at all. I was just back in town. Wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh! _Cool!_ I thought for a second you m- might be Bull, or one of his boys. I don't know if I could face them m- myself. But then again... maybe I could, right? That's what you showed me!"

But then, the DJ's voice began to shake again. "Do... do you think it's _okay?_ For me to—"

She kept her smile but simply shrugged. "That's not for me to say, Travis. You need to figure out what makes _you_ comfortable. Feel it out. Give it time. That's the best advice that I think anyone can follow, when they're worried."

Travis pulled over the only chair he had and held it out for her. Sam sat down, immediately feeling better for it. Travis sat down on his bed, facing her so they could talk.

And continue talking, they did. Hearing him talk about how much she'd helped him, focusing on much of a difference she had made in someone else's life, Samantha forgot all about her pain.


	94. Chapter 94

Piper pulled her trench coat closer in around her. It wasn't a very windy morning, but being this high up, even a minor breeze was emphasized.

Diamond City looked so small from the rooftop. She thought back to the last time she'd been up here, how she'd brought Blue along. The gratitude she had expressed, not with her words so much as with her _eyes_. She blushed a little, whether from the cold or from the memory, she couldn't say for sure. But she remembered — that had been the first time they'd held hands.

She was alone this time. But maybe that was for the best. Sleep hadn't come to Piper easily, last night. Even now, after she'd watched the sun rise, her head was spinning from so much conversation. She had a lot to think about. She was still so worried about Nat. About the Institute. The Brotherhood. And yes, she admitted, Sam.

"Oh Blue. You'd love it up here." _To see the sun come up like this, over the distant sea. I've got to bring her up for it sometime_. But Samantha was on her mind enough as it was.

She spoke out loud as she thought. It helped her process. Piper hadn't done this in a _long_ time.

Nat was right. So much of what she'd said the other evening had been so sensible. She couldn't be kept in Diamond City all her life. If she _chose_ to live that way, that would be one thing, but like Blue had said, she had to have the choice. Her role as big sister was to be there as a _guide_. What good was truth without freedom to act upon it, after all?

"You seem to love most things, don't you? I hope it doesn't come around to hurt you, someday."

At the same time, safety had to be one of her concerns. How could it not? How could she not want to protect her own sister? She'd never be at peace with herself if something happened to her. Some people claimed synth's eyes were like cameras for the Institute. It was impossible to prove, but the prospect kept her up at night, sometimes.

"But even when you do get hurt, you bounce back. You always somehow make things work."

The Institute didn't seem to bother Sam, one way or the other. She'd thought that through before, though, and she'd given up on trying to convince her friend. With luck on their side, they'd be able to avoid the Institute altogether after this. To just... go on with their lives, and not get caught up anymore with them. Or with the Brotherhood of Steel.

"Just don't fall for the Brotherhood, okay? Live life how you want, just... please, not that."

She'd heard enough stories about them. About their leader. Travelers talked about him sometimes. Descriptions varied, but one thing remained consistent. He'd brought the Brotherhood together, back from the brink, regardless of the cost. He had power, and was not afraid to use that power to gather even more. And that made him a _very_ dangerous man.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so opinionated. I wish I had more of an open mind."

Was it a problem for her to want to keep Blue away from these things? She didn't know what she was getting into. She didn't mean to be controlling, but she couldn't comfortably stand by either. Not while someone she cared for walked unknowingly into trouble. _And this is why you can't keep friends. You're never content to just let people live in bliss_.

"You never seem to mind _me_. I don't know how you do it." _I don't know how I ever got so lucky_.

She felt torn. Of two minds. On the one hand, a safe and happy life. On the other, a world of adventure. Blue made her want both. She was a pretty dangerous woman herself, with this wild journey she was on to get her son back. Sometimes she had to remember that they were _technically_ together in the pursuit of a story. Good luck explaining that to Kellogg.

"I know it's been a hard road. I wish it didn't have to be."

Even if Samantha _could_ track Kellogg down, did she seriously expect to try to take him out herself? Even with the two of them together, she wasn't sure they had the skill. Or did her friend expect to _talk_ her way through things with him? No... she'd seen the glint of fire in her eyes. She was prepared to kill, if it would bring her back her son. Maybe even if it wouldn't.

"We'll find him. We'll find Shaun."

What would happen if they did find Shaun? Piper shivered, from the cold, but also from the thought. So much about the Blue she knew would change. She'd certainly be less willing to go out on adventures if she had a baby to look after. What they had going was so magical. Could she really tear her friend away from her own child, though? From her own past? No. Never. She'd be no better than Kellogg if she did.

"You've been so selfless for me, Blue. I can't imagine anyone I'd be more happy with."

The gentle wind continued to chill her. She continued to refuse to leave. Nat came back to the forefront of her mind. How cool would it be, if the three of them could go out on the road together? It was an impossible dream, a reality she had no right reason to expect. Blue hadn't come into her life _for_ her and Nat. She had her own journey to go on. No matter how close they became as friends.

 _'Just friends, huh?'_

 _Shut up_ , she told herself. She'd felt like an idiot, stumbling over the woman's tease. Her own comeback had been just as stupid, too. She played the words across her lips again, speaking to the wind.

"Unless... something changes..."


	95. Chapter 95

Sam stepped down and out of Travis' abode, waving goodbye to the DJ as she did. Somewhere deep inside of her, she told herself she'd try the best she could to leave her pre-war radio memories behind. DCR deserved more listeners. It was the least she could do.

She looked up at the sky and smiled. This whole world deserved attending to. It felt less alien to her by the day. That was okay, wasn't it? To leave the past where it belonged? To accept — even _support_ —the new life she'd been forced to live in? What she'd give for somebody to ground her. Somebody to quell her doubts and silence all the noise.

Piper was starting to become that someone. Though after last night, Sam was hesitant to pressure her friend into anything. _If she thinks we're just friends, then we're just friends. I don't need anything more than that from her. We're good!_ At least, that was what she told herself.

For the moment, she focused on her walking. The crisp October air rushed past her, though her, clearing her head as much as her heart. She did get turned around a couple times, though, likely from looking at the ground more than where she was actually going. Nick's office was around here somewhere, right? This had been so _easy_ yesterday.

After a few more minutes of still-hungover stumbling and grumbling, she found the office door. She knocked briefly, for courtesy if nothing else, and let herself inside.

The synth, seated at his desk, turned towards her and stood up as soon as she stepped in. "Mornin', Ms. Red."

Nick gestured to the chairs where they had sat for their first interview. He seated himself opposite her. This was nothing new. They'd had several good conversations in this arrangement. Sam eased herself into the seat. It felt a bit more comfortable every time.

"You know, you really _can_ call me Samantha. In fact I'd prefer it."

"And _I'd_ prefer it if I stick to formalities. Assuming it's all the same to you..." He reached up and adjusted his hat, almost like he was fidgeting with it.

"Best standards and practices," he continued. "Helps to minimize the crosstalk in my head, keeping track of who I'm on a case with and who's just a familiar face. When this is over, I'll call you anything you ask me to."

 _That's an oddly personal request._ For the humanity behind his sentiment, if nothing else, she nodded in acceptance. "And what should I call _you_ , then?"

"That's your business, not mine. Clients have called me everything from Nick, to cop, to simply _robot_."

Sam frowned. "That's not very polite."

"Neither is crime." The detective shrugged. "Investigation a dirty business, and honestly I've never been one to worry about what people think of me. I'm just here to get the job done."

 _You make it sound like you belong in a toolbox_. But she'd seen too many signs of care in him to buy that line of reasoning. Could a mechanical man like Nick even _feel_ self-pity? Maybe she should just get off the subject.

"Say, where's Ms. Perkins?"

 _"Ellie_ asked to take a few days off. I said I didn't mind. Shop's been pretty quiet since I got back into town, save for yourself."

"Guess folks are getting used to having you around again."

"That's my hunch, also. I suppose I should be lucky they didn't put the office up for sale. Which reminds me!"

Nick got back up, but motioned for Samantha to remain seated. He paced across the room and began to rummage through a cardboard box.

"I took the liberty of going back up to Kellogg's place last night. Took another look around."

Sam laughed teasingly. _"Now_ who's not taking time off?"

"I can clear my mind in _ten minutes_ , and do it better than any of your organic CPUs can with a full night's sleep, so don't get chummy. At any rate, I found something. A secret button, hidden in his desk. I'm a bit surprised we missed it on our first pass, yesterday."

"Seriously? To what, like, a hidden room and everything?" The whole thing sounded like something from some old Hubris comicbook.

"The works!" Nick pulled something out of the crate and came back over to be seated. "A real mess in there, too. I scoured for potential leads. If you'd like to take a look yourself in there to see if I missed anything..."

Sam shook her head. "I think... it'd be healthier, if I kept my distance." Just thinking about going back into that house was enough to make her muscles tense.

"Well, here's what we've got then." Nick placed the object on the desk between them. Sam looked down. _San Francisco Sunlights._

"How's a box of cigars going to help us find him? I don't imagine he left a trail of ash on his way out."

"Joke if you want. But you're actually closer to the answer than you think. Now, my particle sensors are busted. Have been, ever since I got out."

The synth's gaze grew distant, for a moment. "I miss the smell of things."

 _Miss?_ "How old _are_ you, Nick?"

"Old enough that I'm in no rush to talk about it. Maybe after we track Kellogg down."

"And you can safely call me Sam?"

Nick twitched a bit, but nodded. "We're getting off track again. These cigars are a unique brand, and smoke has a way of sticking to things." He leaned forward slightly. "I've got a contact. Plays by his own rules, but damn if he's not the best tracker in the Commonwealth. If anyone can find your husband's killer off of these, it's him."

Sam tried her best to smile. This could really be it. The path to Kellogg. The path to Shaun.

"Sounds like someone worth recruiting. I'd like to meet him."

Nick eyed her up and down. "Y'know? You seem his type. I bet he'd like to meet you too."


	96. Chapter 96

Slow, reluctant, cold, Piper made her way down the ancient metal stairs. Her hideout at the top of Diamond City had done her good, but now, she needed company. _I'll go see Nick_ , she thought. _Nick always has something good to say_.

She stepped into the office without knocking — the way she'd used to, back when she had worked for him. Also, just like how it had been then, Nick was busy talking with a client. When the woman turned around to face her, her heart instantly fell back into the night before, and she started blushing.

"Blue! H- hi! How are you?"

Sam stood up instantly, straightening her clothes out and fixing up her hair. "Alright, I guess. Been chasing off a headache, though..."

 _Headache? Blue, you should have come over_. Though, come to think of it, Nat was at school, and Piper had been out since it had been dark. She hadn't tried to visit and felt turned away, had she?

"Well!" Nick stood up loudly and deliberately. Breaking the momentary tension between reporter and redhead.

"If you two are in working order, I think I've found a lead. Already discussed this with Ms. Red, but we're going to need to call in an outsider. I'm going to go put word out for him. You two are welcome to come along, or stay, I guess... if you would like."

"I'll come!" both women said at once.

They stared at each other for a second. Nick grumbled something indistinguishable as he slipped between them and out the door. Sam went next. Piper followed.

As they walked, Piper's hand accidentally brushed against her friend's. Their fingers intertwined, but Samantha looked away. "Blue..."

She offered no reply. Piper frowned. "Hey, stop. Please..."

The woman stopped and turned instantly, not even stepping far enough to put any tension on their hand-hold. "Hey," she said, quietly. "I'm sorry, I'm here."

"Blue, is this about last night?"

"Sort of. It's also just this headache. Honest."

Piper sighed in sympathy. "We'll fix that, when this is is over. But, listen..." she reached over and put her free hand under Sam's chin, forcing her to look up, for their eyes to meet. "You've got nothing to worry about, okay? I _loved_ getting to spend that time together."

The redhead smiled, like a weight was being lifted from her shoulders. It warmed her, in a way that nobody else could. But she also felt a little bad. None of her words had been _lies_ , but she was still willingly omitting part of the truth. Part of how Sam had made her feel.

"Let's put it behind us, alright? Or at least deal with it later. Y'know... if—" But then she silenced herself, instantly regretted the direction that her words had taken.

Blue laughed softly. "If something changes, right?"

Now it was the reporter's turn to avoid the other person's eyes.

"I get it, Piper. Thank you. For being such a good sport." Sam patted her on the shoulder and wrapped an arm around her. They got back to walking. "So, you know anything about this friend of Nick's?"

She was smiling again. "Can't say I do. Nick's usually not the type to collaborate on projects."

"Wait, what about you? I thought you used to work for him."

 _"With_ him, he always insisted on saying. He also used to call me his _exception to the rule_ , whatever that means."

"You? A rulebreaker? I never would have thought!" Sam teased.

"You're one to talk, _Trouble"_ she retaliated.

"Don't you dare seriously start to call me that."

"Oh, so now you _want_ me to call you Blue? That's a breaking headline in itself!"

They laughed and smiled on their way over, Sam keeping her arm around her the whole time. Piper really appreciated it. The whole thing served as an affirmation of the way things had been, a reminder that they didn't _have_ to become more than friends, just because they cared for one another.

They rounded the corner where they'd seen Nick go. He was standing up on the podium in front of the Wall. No one else seemed to be around, which was probably be for the best. Otherwise they might have gotten strange looks, congregating here like this. Then again, Nick probably didn't care. And Piper had gotten used to nobody wanting her around.

Except for Blue. Blue was _her_ exception.

Nick looked down at them. "Oh, you actually followed! You might not want to hear this." Piper blinked, looking over at her friend. Sam's arm falls away from her. They each covered their ears.

He put two fingers to his mouth. Piper didn't hear anything, but she did feel a ringing in her head. The kind that came from hearing something _very_ loud — even though there was nothing audible.

The synth hopped down from the stage and nodded to them each. Piper let her hands down, and raised an eyebrow. "What was that all about, Nick?"

"I told you, sending out a call! He'll hear it. Like I said, best senses this side of the apocalypse. Might not get here for a while. He's his own man, but he's loyal."

He was being cryptic. Piper knew better than to dig. She looked over to see Sam rubbing the side of her head, down to her ears. _You felt that too, huh?_

"So now what?" she asked. "Do we just wait around or..."

"He'll come to my office, probably. You're welcome to wait there, but I know it can be a little cramped."

Piper saw her opportunity, and jumped on it.

"I've actually been meaning to do some writing. Get my thoughts down from the past few escapades." She turned towards her friend, tried her best not to let her smile betray her heartrate. "You w- wanna come over, Blue?"

"If you want me, Piper."

Her eyes flitted briefly to Nick. His knowing gaze said everything. Originally, she'd come for his counsel.

With Blue though, she had something better.


	97. Chapter 97

Happy and warm, Sam sat across from Piper on the upper floor of Publick Occurrences. Her friend sipped on a Nuka-Cola, reading through a small, well-loved array of comics, spread across her bed. Sam had made herself a mug of tea.

"So much for that writing, huh?"

"You won't hear me complaining." Piper smiled, but her eyes stayed focused on the comic's page. "This is _so much_ better than work."

Sam smiled too, even though she knew the woman wouldn't see it. And continued to sip her tea. Something in it was _incredibly_ relaxing.

"Hey, thanks for inviting me back over. I know you've said it's always open, but—"

"It helps to be reminded. I know the feel. Bet this is a hell of an escape for you, before we go after Kellogg."

Sam nodded. She had so many questions for the man. _Why Shaun, but neither of us? Why did you have to shoot him, just for holding on? Why did you even wake me up to watch?_

Piper looked up at her, and continued talking. "Believe me, I know how powerful it can be to take a little break like this. It's like creating a snapshot in my mind. A reminder that the world has good in it, still. Something to return to, when the going's bad."

She was still smiling. They both were.

"We should get you a _real_ camera, Piper. Take _real_ snapshots. They'd make a great addition to the Publick!" Sam had a suspicion that her friend would take _amazing_ pictures.

"Ha! Good luck with that. Most cameras these days are shot. You could probably scrap some neat parts out of them, but finding one that works? Not gonna happen."

Sam frowned and shrugged. She made a mental note — If she ever _did_ find a pristine, working one...

The tea continued to offer her relief. It allowed her to focus. To simply breathe.

Piper got to the last page of Grognak #17 and closed it with a longful sigh. She rolled over on the bed a little, so they could look at each other more directly.

"You're so _cool_ , Blue. You could have totally been a hero in a comic book."

Sam's heart jumped a beat. Just once, probably thanks to the calming tea. "How do you figure?"

"Your backstory with the Vault, for starters. You come from such a different world than ours. You've got a magic about you, being from the past. But at the same time it's your one great weakness. Guns, bombs, radiation..."

She caught herself mid-ramble. "Er, not to get all serious or anything."

"No, I get it. It's okay." Piper couldn't be more right. The past did hurt. But being around the reporter, she felt like maybe it didn't have to. She felt wholesome. Maybe even whole.

"And how does it feel?" Sam teased. "Being such close friends with a superhero?"

The joke didn't go over as she had intended. "Honestly, it makes me feel a little lackluster. You're fit, and fast, and people _like_ you. You've got a mind I... I could never have."

"That is _entirely_ the _opposite_ of true!" Sam spat her words out with fiery conviction. But her friend just kept insisting.

"Blue, I'm serious. Why, back the other week in 114, you taught yourself how to hack a terminal from _scratch!"_

Sam got up, pulling the apartment's only chair up and out, in front of Piper's terminal. "C'mere. I'm gonna _show_ you how easy this really is."

The woman followed her directions, but raised an eyebrow. "What is?"

"Hacking."

She immediately groaned.

"Piper, I mean it! Please..." She wanted so badly to give the woman a little confidence. A hug might have also done the job, but... _No. That might not go over well_.

She sighed and took a seat. "I'm warnin' you Blue, I'm _bad_ at these things. My head gets caught up in all the possibilities, and—"

"Sshh. Don't worry about how you've done this before. Let me try to step you through. I figured it out without any prior training, didn't I?"

Piper nodded reluctantly. She flipped the power switch, and immediately held down the proper set of keys, causing the terminal to skip its standard boot cycle. _See, Piper? You know what you're on about_.

"Now, you know your password, but pretend you don't. What do you see instead?"

"A bunch of words," she mumbled. "And no idea how to tell which ones are right or wrong."

"Well, you gotta start somewhere, right? Pick a password. _Not_ the right one."

Piper scrolled down to a random word and hit enter. _Likeness = 1_.

"But how do I know _which one?"_ She rested her head against one hand, sighing. Sam really wished that she could get away with hugging her. Like the ones she and Nate had shared, when she'd gotten tired or distraught.

"That's part of your problem right there, Piper. Don't try to calculate it. Just go off of the feedback that you get. That's how I learned to lockpick, anyway!"

Her dejection yielded to another grin. "I do love your finesse at that..." She looked back at the screen. "So what would _you_ do here, Blue?"

"Well, only one letter was correct, right? I'd go looking for a word that's mostly different."

"I guess that works. Maybe this one? Oh, great." _Likeness = 0_.

"That's good!" Sam insisted. "Now you have that much more to go on. What's a word like _neither_ of those two?"

Piper's eyes scanned the screen. "Not seeing much..."

Sam pointed. "What about that one?"

"That's the actual password."

"Oh! Uhm..." Sam blushed, and for a second regretted forcing the entire topic. Her password was _Trouble_.

In a welcome, if unexpected, distraction, Sam heard knocking from downstairs. She went down to investigate. Opening the door, she found herself face to face with their friend, the detective. "Hey Valentine! No companion yet, huh?"

But then, her eyes strayed down a little. "Uh... Nick? What's with the dog?"


	98. Chapter 98

Piper leaned back against the metal wall of the Diamond City marketplace and caught herself yawning. She hadn't even done much that day, but she was still so tired. They'd agreed to set out in search of Kellogg the following morning. That, in turn, had given Sam the time she needed to finish up the crafting project she'd been working on.

The redhead laughed while she worked. "I still can't believe I'm trusting my family's future to a dog."

"We'll do stranger things yet, Blue. Just you wait."

Sam smirked. "That supposed to be a threat?"

 _A promise_. But she held her tongue, and instead allowed her tired mind to drift back through memories of Bunker Hill. Dogmeat had been a frequent face around the settlement. In a way, she felt like she had practically grown up with him. And Nat loved him even more than she did.

"This is so sweet, Blue. First that motor you salvaged, now _this_. No one's ever done things just for me before."

"Hey, this is as much for your health as it is my own. I don't want to lose you." She went back to welding for a minute, finishing up a piece and tossing it aside.

"You sound like Nat." She watched as Sam hammered some leather into place. _She's got a knack for this_. Blue seemed to be good at most things that involved her hands.

"How's that going anyway?" Sam asked. "Things going between you and her."

"Honestly, I haven't talked with her a whole lot since we argued. I think she's doing better though. I certainly know I am."

Sam nodded, sighing. "I always wished I'd had a sister. Someone I could look up to, or who could look up to me."

"Careful, Blue, or Nat will start thinking of you as a second one."

"That's hardly a deterrent," she teased back. "Hey, let's try this on you!"

Sam worked on fitting the gear she'd made to Piper's extremities. Her face seems to turn a little red as she adjusted the various straps, reaching around her arms and legs. _Blue, are you... blushing?_

Sam stepped back after another minute's work and breathed. "How's it feel?"

Piper tried walking around, along with a few other basic motions. Reaching for her pack. Reaching for her pistol. Her underarms were still exposed — trenchcoat notwithstanding — so applying stimpaks would be easy.

"Surprisingly light. I like it!" It wasn't the most _appealing_ gear she'd ever seen, but survival won out over style. Especially where they were headed.

Sam hoisted herself up onto the workbench, smiling at her. "I've seen how much you like to move around. Did my best to keep everything compact. I asked Arturo for advice..."

She continued talking, but Piper's brain was getting fuzzy. She waited until her friend finished, before resting a hand on her shoulder and saying thanks. "I think I'm gonna turn in, though. Want to get at least _one_ night of solid rest before we leave."

"Oh." Sam reached across herself, holding onto the hand Piper had placed on her. "You... you sure you couldn't stay up a little longer?"

Sam's words made her heart melt. _I'd truly love to. Don't ever let yourself think otherwise_.

Out loud though, she merely shook her head. Her friend's nod was equally silent, but filled with understanding.

"As you wish. Meet just before dawn, right?"

"Right."

Piper turned and went back to her home. She felt bad, leaving Blue alone. But the woman didn't deserve to see her cranky. She opened the door and stepped inside.

Nat was standing on the couch, holding a sugar bomb above Dogmeat's head.

"Welcome home sis! _Nice armor."_

"Thanks," she said, her voice starting as little more than a mutter. "Blue made it for m— Nat, are you already teaching him more tricks?"

"Just like I used to, back when we were kids! Check this one out. _Dogmeat, Pip-Boy!"_

The dog instantly sat up straight, and raised his left paw, turning it inwards and looking down.

Piper stifled a laugh. _You'll do anything to get out of your homework, won't you?_

"Nat, I—"

"No no wait, it gets better! _Dogmeat, deliver!"_

Like clockwork, he turned and grabbed a rolled up copy of Publick Occurrences, and trotted straight towards Piper. He dropped the issue at her feet — no visible bite marks, not even a speck of drool.

 _Okay_ , Piper thought. _That would be pretty cool._

She scruffed the dog's head, and walked over to her sister. The couch proved troublingly comfortable. "If I pass out talking to you, don't let me sleep down here again!"

Her sister blinked. "Sure, Piper. What's up?"

Her eyes drooped for a moment, but she forced them back open. This needed focus. "Nat, Blue and I are going out again. It's going to be dangerous this time. _Really dangerous."_

"Like, worse than your legs got, dangerous?"

Piper nodded, and explained who they were searching for. She felt bad, forcing this painful, fearful truth on her. But they were family. The only family either of them had.

"Sis, why do this then? If it's so scary? If so much could go wrong?"

Piper _had_ an answer. She knew it, _felt_ it in her heart. But she couldn't put it to words. Not yet, anyway. Something was still missing. Something involving Blue.

"I guess for the same reason we run the paper. Or do anything, Nat. To help people who need it. Who deserve it." It wasn't the truth, but not even Piper could say what the honest answer was.

Nat scooted closer to her and wrapped her arms around Piper's entire body. Even Dogmeat came over, tilting his head at them and whining.

 _"My sis_ is the _strongest_ , _bravest_ lady in the whole wide _wasteland_. And she's going to _destroy_ this bad man. Make him _pay_ for what he did to _Lady."_

"Damn right!" Piper cheered back. She returned her sister's hug, did her best to stem the flow of tears.


	99. Chapter 99

Sam woke up with a gasp, sheets tangled all around her. She reached immediately for her Pip-Boy and turned on its flashlight. She sat up on the side bed, gathering herself. Her feelings. Her breath.

 _Another nightmare?_ Were they getting more frequent? No... no, she didn't think so. They'd seemed to happen every few days, ever since the bombs. They were starting to serve as milestones, punctuating the different phases of her adjustment to the Commonwealth. They _might_ have been cool, if they didn't leave her heart pounding every time.

She got up, still dragging sheet with her like a gown. She went over and flipped the switch on for the room's overhead light. At least the world still had electricity. For an apocalypse, things could be so much worse.

 _'Honestly, seeing everyone surviving out here? Rebuilding the world? It gives me hope.'_

She thought back to her words from the interview with Piper. The two of them had formed such an incredible bond. She couldn't think of many folks she'd _ever_ felt such a consistent desire for closeness with. Her best friend from childhood, before their families moved to different states. Nate, back when they were both in school. Before they ever dreamt of getting married.

And now... this pushy, eccentric, caring, _safe_ reporter. The only person in the Commonwealth she had allowed herself to trust. _Why?_ What was it about her?

Whatever it was, it gave her half a mind to get dressed and go knocking on her door, right that minute. But she flipped the Pip-Boy's light off, checked the time, and... _yeah, no, she deserves to sleep_. Dawn wasn't _that_ far off, anyway.

She contemplated sleep. Longed for it, more like, but knew it wouldn't come. This was it. This was _the day_. She had no way of knowing for sure that Nick's "specialist" would be able to sniff him out. But she _felt_ it. Maybe it was just anxiety. Maybe it was merely vengeance.

 _Find who's responsible, and make them pay. Simple as that_.

That had been the other quote she'd left her friend with, in that fateful first conversation. The two lines seemed to bookend her mentality. They comprised everything that drove her. Like opposing edges of a sword.

She gave her pack an additional once-over. Stimpaks, water, food. Clothes and armor. Hammer. Gun. Grenades. She felt like she imagined Nate did on the battlefield, carrying only bare essentials. She needed color in her life again. Maybe she would get it back someday. Maybe she'd find it with Piper, as a team.

But first, she had a man to kill.

* * *

The stars were finally beginning to fade. Sam was cold, but only in her body. Her spirit _burned_. It would be so easy to close herself off to the world, to her inner torrent of emotion. But that would deprive her of her meaning, and sap her of her strength. Strength that came not from her own body, but from the tools she had amassed and the force of will with which she used them.

The door to the makeshift-city's paper opened quietly. Out stepped the familiar figure of her friend, classic trench coat overlaid with armor. Her pistol was holstered to one side. Their newfound canine companion followed closely on the other. She looked ready for war, though Sam knew that war would be the _last_ thing to ever go through Piper's mind.

Sam got up and walked towards her silhouette. They smiled, meekly, but said nothing. Sam kneeled down next to Dogmeat and reached into her pocket, pulling out the precious evidence their synthetic friend had found them.

"You ready for some hunting, buddy?"

Fittingly, the dog barked. Not loudly, but in a warm, affirming tone. Samantha held out the cigar, which the animal promptly began inspecting with his nose.

She looked up at Piper while he sniffed. "You ready for this?"

The reporter nodded somberly. "You?"

"Pretty sure I _dreamt_ about it. Guess that's gotta stand for something. Can't remember much. _He_ was there, and I think we were in a Vault again. There were raiders with us. It wasn't very dark, but it was cold." Cold had a habit of following her every fear, these days.

The fur on Dogmeat's back began to rise. He gave a low growl, and then a piercing bark. For a second, Sam felt like the noise would wake all of Diamond City.

"You got it, boy?! You got him?!" She faced the dog again, her face flushing with excitement. Not the kind that came accompanied by joy. She was excited to finally have a semblance of direction. A path that she could pour her anger down. An outlet for her hate.

With any luck, that hate would die with Kellogg.

Dogmeat took off up the stairs leading out of town. Sam and Piper exchanged glances, and followed where he led them.

"Did you say raiders were _with_ us?" There almost seemed to be an undertone of anger in Piper's voice. Or maybe Sam was just projecting.

"Look, I never said my nightmares made any sense."

"Wait, _nightmares?"_ Piper's expression gave way to a familiar sentiment of care. "You're _still_ having nightmares?"

"Have been since this all got started. Had one just the other night, in fact. Back when the rad storm hit."

Piper seemed to stumble over nothing visible. "Oh, so that— _ohhh_."

Sam blinked at her. "What?"

"Er, nothing. Nothing."

She remained mute, and Sam knew better than to try and get a secret that her friend wanted to keep. Although, as Dogmeat led them through the fens and out into the Commonwealth, the woman's hand did somehow end up intertwining with her own.

Cold air filled her lungs, but a fire in her heart was kindled at the same time, fighting back against the loneliness. This was better than whatever words Piper had tucked away. Being out here, with her, there was little else Samantha felt like she could ever need.


	100. Chapter 100

The higher the sun got, the harder it beat down. Piper was tired, to say the least. Confused where they were going. Worried about so much that could go wrong. Chasing an infamous mercenary and murderer halfway across the Commonwealth. It'd be an incredible capstone to her story about Blue, assuming they survived to talk and write about it.

But every time the doubtful thinking came to visit, all she had to do was look at Blue, and everything seemed to make sense again. There was a strength of spirit to her that she had never really seen before. Blue was genuinely coming into her own now — as righteous and ingenious as she was beautiful and brave. It gave her goosebumps, to think that of everybody out there, Blue had chosen _her_ for a companion.

Piper had her own life to live too, of course. Her own work to do, for herself and for her sister. But how could she ever turn away someone like Samantha?

And how fateful their first interaction had been, their lives colliding on total accident, just in time for each of them to save the other from disaster or despair. _Nat always said you were the lucky one_. It was practically romantic.

Some paces ahead of them, Dogmeat came to a stop. He sniffed the ground as they approached, looking up at them and whining.

She looked to Blue. "Maybe pull out those bandages again? Remind him of the scent?"

"Worth a shot. I mean, it worked last time. Hey, first, you got any water?"

"Sure do." Piper reached around into her pack. Sam turned to Dogmeat in the meantime.

"Take a break, boy!"

Sam drank. Piper snacked. They didn't have much in the way of food — mostly grilled bits of meat. It had the consistency of old shoes stuck together with wonderglue and nails, but it was sustenance. She offered to share. The redhead declined, just like she had all morning.

"Blue, you've got to keep your strength up for this."

"I _will_. Just, not from taking time to stop."

She finished off the water can and dropped it, stomping it flat beneath her armored boot. Then, reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the tattered, bloodied rag they'd found along the way.

"C'mon, boy. Let's find this son of a bitch."

Dogmeat took one sniff and was off again, leading the way. Sam and Piper both closely followed, side by side. They were _together_ in this. Equals. Partners. She couldn't think of anyone with whom she'd rather be.

Their guide certainly was taking a circuitous path. She figured Kellogg must have done the same, trying to shake any possible pursuers off his trail. The sun was already at its zenith, and they still had no idea how far they had left to go.

 _Guess there's nothing for it but to trust_. They followed Dogmeat up hills and under bridges. Through packs of mongrel beasts, through swamps, through ruins. It was tiring, dissuading. More than once, a voice in the back of Piper's head wanted to give up. But in her heart, she'd have nothing of it. She would have done all of this without a second thought if it had been for Nat. She saw no reason why Shaun should deserve any less.

They made their way into a small abandoned town. The place was littered with ancient military signs and hardware. She'd never understood the old world's sacred fascination with the five-point star. Piper made a mental note to ask her friend about it sometime. When she wasn't in the mindset of a mother Yao Guai, searching for her cub.

Dogmeat led them up the steps of an old bunker and barked. Sam kneeled down and consulted with the canine, asking questions and trying to make sure she understood him right. After a minute, she stood. "I guess the trail stops here."

He barked one last time, then trotted off to lie down in a patch of sun. Piper walked over and poured him a little dirty water, scavenging an old discarded bowl from nearby. "He's done his part, Blue. If this is where he thinks it ends, I'm willing to bet that Kellogg's hid himself inside."

She turned towards Sam, but something made her hesitant to approach. The anger in the redhead was mounting, visibly. It was getting harder to read the subtle, human emotions beneath that veil of rage.

"You... wanna look around for a side entrance? These sorts of bunkers always have multip—"

But Blue had other plans. She grabbed the hammer off her back and swung. _Hard_. Sent the mallet's head crashing right through a stack of cinderblocks. The tool remained intact and firm. The old stone went flying. She tore through boards and bricks and bags of sand.

Piper stood and watched, finding herself strangely reminded of their conversation about Nat. _Blue's her own person. I need to let her do this her own way_. If that meant letting her throw a tantrum against a barricaded door, so be it.

When the dust cleared — and there was a lot of dust that needed clearing — Piper closed the gap between them. "Feeling better now?"

Sam leaned on the handle of her sledge, evidently quite aware of how ridiculous her little outburst had been. She shut her eyes like she was trying to shut the whole world out.

Piper patted her on the back. "Hey. You're okay. I wouldn't imagine this as easy for anyone."

Sam turned towards her, still voiceless. For a moment, her eyes reflected sadness and pain — anything _but_ a fighter's strength. Piper leaned in towards her, until their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes.

"Whatever happens inside, just know that I'm behind you, Blue. I always will be."

A sharp laugh broke the mood. "You make me almost glad to be out here!" It meant a lot to hear her voice again.

"Can't have that!" she teased back. "Come on, let's go find your son."


	101. Chapter 101

Sam dove from one piece of cover to the next. In the chaos of laser light and synthetic voices, Piper had somehow gotten _ahead_ of her. _Come on, Piper. We both know how that goes_.

As soon as she was by the reporter's side, she pulled out a pair of grenades. The first one cleared the group ahead of them. The second went down the hall, bouncing off the wall and into an adjacent room. She heard inquiring robotic voices from within, and then a satisfying _BOOM_.

Her friend elbowed her gently. "Nice throws!"

Sam rolled her eyes. "You're ignoring the last two that I missed."

"So what if I am?"

Things were quiet for a while after that. They moved slowly, speaking with their hands more than their voices. It had been Piper's idea, taking the element of stealth, speaking with their hands when words would have drawn attention. Apparently, not even synths were impervious to sneak attacks.

What were these many synths even _doing_ here? Was Kellogg here too? Was he being hunted by them? _Protected_ by them? She prayed for a coincidence.

The whole assault had a hectic, fevered feeling, no matter how much they tried (and sometimes even succeeded) to conceal themselves from their opponent's sensors. These robots had a significant homefield advantage.

And she did think of them _as robots_. There was a world of difference between these things and Valentine. Their intelligence was clearly lower, their people skills were nonexistent, and their plastic skin gave her seven different kinds of creeps.

She would have happily lost herself in distracting conversation, talking with Piper about something, _anything_. But they had more pressing matters. They didn't even need words to check in with each other. Between a stimpak and a knowing smile, there was little left to say.

In the back of her mind, Samantha noted what they each were good and bad at. She wasn't nearly as good at sneaking as Piper was. Her armor was heavier, her movements less calculated. Stealth would have been easier, too, if her weapon of choice was not a _hammer_.

But their setup had advantages in other ways. Sam's tougher armor let her take more hits. She could afford to get in the thick of things more, giving Piper room to do what _she_ did best. Being spread apart also gave them a wider view of things. More than once, one of them had spotted something that the other never would have noticed, calling out a word of much-appreciated warning.

Some rooms later, Blue was in the lead — when she froze, instantly holding up a fist. There was movement up ahead. She crouched down behind a filing cabinet and tried her best to assess what lay in front of them. There looked to be three synths in total. Maybe four.

She turned back to Piper and signaled as much. The reporter — hidden underneath a desk — signed back. _[Stay low. I'll strike first.]_

She then made her right hand into a fist and pressed it firmly against her left hand's open palm. Sam nodded in understanding. That was another one of their invented signs: _[Grenade.]_

Turning back to face the synths, she watched as the explosive flew past her and down the hall. The way the synths turned towards the grenade, practically curious about it, Sam had to restrain the urge to laugh. But the shock from the detonation, even at a distance, was enough to make her focus.

She ran in before the smoke had finished clearing. Judging by the quantity parts on the floor, they'd gotten one of them, maybe two. Beams of light shot past her sideways — whether from her left or right, she couldn't say for sure. So she simply ran straight ahead, looking for cover, and considering True Need.

Another laser beam. Another narrow miss. But it was enough for her to gauge the angle of attack. Ducking behind a stack of wooden crates, she stuck her head out just enough to make eye contact and sign to Piper. _[One enemy. Fire right.]_

Piper followed her cues and burst into the chamber, turning and firing instantly. The shots were enough to turn the synth's attention, which allowed Sam to safely close the gap. A sweep to the legs, an overhead strike, and that was one more enemy down.

Reporter and redhead each looked to the other, checking in — with hands, and words — as they so often did.

And then something different happened. Speakers above and all around them crackled to life. A low voice echoed through the room.

"Hmph. Never expected you to come knocking on my door."

The words sent a chill down Samantha's spine, far worse than anything the synths had caused her. Piper came walking up beside her. "Blue, is that..."

"Yeah." She reached over and grabbed Piper's arm. "That's him."

A powerful frown immediately formed across her face. _She hates this man too, doesn't she?_

The voice continued. There was no mistaking it. She remembered his voice from Vault 111 like it had been yesterday.

"Gave you fifty-fifty odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky."

Sam laughed, largely out of spiteful defiance. She let go of Piper's arm and gave it a little playful punch. "Guess he doesn't know how much of a difference Diamond City made for me, huh?"

Piper shook her head. "I dunno, Blue. If Kellogg's _in league_ with the Institute..."

"Then we'll take them _both_ down." She knew her words were hyperbolic, but she needed them to convince herself. That she wasn't walking right into a death trap. That they were doing the right thing. That all of this was worth the shot at getting back her son.

She grabbed her friend's hand and gave it a tight, solid squeeze. She wanted to reassure her.

But she couldn't shake the feel, herself — things were about to get a whole lot worse.


	102. Chapter 102

"Okay, you made it. I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let's talk."

 _That voice_. That smug, taunting voice. Ready to kill. Ready to die. Piper hated everything about it. Especially the way it ground down on her friend.

If she didn't know better, she'd say Kellogg was starting to sound scared. But she _did_ know better. She'd heard the stories about what this man did to people. About his ruthlesness, and his raw strength. Was Blue genuinely _not_ afraid? Or was she just holing up again, burying her feelings where no one, not even she, could find them.

They had just stepped into a round, peculiar-looking room. It was old, just like everything else of course, but its wear seemed to be more evident in here. Perhaps that was simply due to how nice it had been meant to look. The bookshelves, the curtains, the... well, to be honest, Piper couldn't even tell what some of the things were. She could have easily asked a dozen questions about the artifacts strewn about the room, and a dozen more simply about the room itself.

But one look at Blue, and she knew it was not the proper time.

Sam leaned agianst a desk and focused her breath. She would almost certainly refuse to eat. Maybe even drink. Piper could try bringing it up, but that just ran the risk of making her more mad. She was _not_ a fan of what all this was doing to her friend. Not that she could blame her.

She came up behind her slowly, coughing quietly to make sure she didn't spook the woman. No acknowledgement came.

"Hey, at least take off your pack. No need to be carrying all that around when we see him."

"If he's even in there." But still, Sam did shrug off her gear. "Can't shake the feeling this isn't going to pan out the way we think."

"One step at a time, Blue."

"Never found it easy to go the slow and steady route."

"I think I've picked up on bits of that." She did her best to smile. "C'mon, even just a minute to recoup your strength. Everyone has to rest at some point."

"Synths don't." But she relented, and sat down on the floor, leaning her back against the wall. Piper joined her, easing herself down. Her body was already aching, and she wasn't constantly maneuvering a sledgehammer. She couldn't begin to imagine what Blue must've been going through. The stress. The pain. The fear.

With the moment's respite, she was able to remember something. Reaching down into her pack, she pulled out a medicinal syringe. Sam's eyes widened. "Piper, what is that?"

"Med-X..." Piper shifted a little in place. _You don't mind, right?_

"Look, it's nothing harmful, Blue. I picked it up adventuring one time, back before you came along. Figured we could split it. Maybe get something of an edge on this guy."

She glanced over from the needle to her friend. She was shifting even more than Piper was. When Blue finally looked up at her, the fire in her eyes had been replaced with uncertainty.

"Am I doing the guns thing?"

Piper snorted, but put a hand on the woman's shoulder and nodded. "You're doing the guns thing."

Sam sighed and started rolling up her sleeve. "It's just medicine, right? It's just trying to keep us alive..."

"Exactly." _Poor Blue. Not a fan of shots, huh?_

She handed her the medicine. If one of them had to use a needle second-hand, Piper would far rather it be herself.

Sam turned the needle over in her hands a few times, as though testing its weight, or at least weighing _something_ , deep inside her. Finally, she sighed, and handed the needle back. "Could you do it?"

"Oh... yeah, Blue. Sure."

She turned and focused in on her arm, trying to find a proper vein. Sam pointed to a specific spot. "That one's your best bet."

Piper nodded. "Hey, thanks. I got it from here."

Sam nodded back, and closed her eyes. Piper felt a sudden urge to put the Med-X down and hug her. To protect her from everything that was leaving her so scared. But she knew life didn't work that way. Still, she would try her best to make what little differences she could.

She held the needle against the woman's skin. Sam's eyes scrunched just a little as she slowly eased it in, passing through her skin and into her vein. She'd given vaccination shots to Natalie before. This was honestly no different.

"Almost done, Blue."

She gently pressed in on the top of the syringe, until half its contents were in her friend's bloodstream. Slowly, she pulled the needle back out. Sam's hand moved reflexively, covering the point of entry.

Piper turned back to lean herself against the wall again, and administered the remaining dosage to herself. She winced through the pain, and did her best to ignore the strange feeling it left running through her body.

Their hands met, making up for how their eyes did not. Piper ran her fingers across Blue's palm, settling briefly on her wrist. _She has a heartbeat. Just like me._

She traced her fingers back down until they wove themselves between Samantha's own. It felt so natural. Like they'd been doing this for their entire lives.

"We're gonna be alright, Blue. You'll get your son back. We'll bring him home."

Samantha opened her eyes, after that. She stood up, shaking herself off. "Thanks, Piper. I needed that."

"Needed what?"

"All of it." She wasn't smiling, but there was compassion clearly written on her face. The burning drive for vengeance was returning, too, but not before she'd also caught a glimpse of what lay deeper in her. The hope and kindness Piper had come to hold so dear.

And goodness knew, it wasn't often you met somebody kind, _and_ strong, _and hot_.

Blue offered her a hand up, which she gladly accepted. "So, you ready?"

"No," she laughed. "But here we go anyway."


	103. Chapter 103

Sam practically felt _good_ , as she approached the unlit chamber. Perhaps from her friend's words of encouragement and wisdom. Perhaps from the chem running through her veins.

But even if she did feel good, she felt anything but happy.

The lights to the room ahead came on, loud and bright. A synth walked by, weapon drawn. _He_ stepped forward. Samantha's heart stopped beating.

"And there she is. The most resili—"

Samantha rushed straight towards and into him, left hand at his throat, slamming him into the wall behind. She barely left him room to breathe.

With what little airflow he had left, he simply laughed. "You got spirit, girl. Runnin' up at me like th—"

 _"No small talk."_ Sam could feel her blood rushing. It felt alien and hot. _"Why_ do this? Why _us? WHY?!"_

"All part of the dance, love." He was actually _smiling_ at her. "I'm a puppet, just like you. Don't tell me you haven't noticed the strings."

Sam tried to tighten her grip around his neck, but nothing she did seemed able to genuinely choke him.

 _"Damnit Kellogg!"_ was the best that she could manage. Her right hand strayed towards her gun. The temptation was more than present. It was screaming in the back of her head. _Shoot him. Just like he shot Nate_.

His stupid smirk refused to fade. "Hah. You're a fiesty one, all of that emotion still inside you. Walking in here like you own the place. Thinking you can play hardball. But we both know how delicate you really are."

A voice came from behind the both of them — innocent and sweet, but menacingly strong. _"Shut up!_ You don't know a _thing_ about her!"

Kellogg shifted his head to one side, looking past her, ignoring her choke hold. "Don't worry, sweets, I'll deal with you later. Tell me, how _is_ your little Natalie?"

That was Samantha's final straw. Her right hand tightened around the pistol's grip, and dug its muzzle into Kellogg's jaw.

Her voice was practically a growl. _"Leave. Piper. Out of this."_

"Oh sure, go ahead. Blow my head off. Never find your son."

He had a point. An _obvious_ point. She lowered her gun. She'd been so driven to find him, to take him down, to make him pay. But now, in the moment, face to face with him, she couldn't think of _what_ to do.

He shook his head, as though in disappointment. "I'm sorry about Shaun. He's a good kid. Little older than you probably remember, but... well, you probably figured that by now."

Her grip on the man began to weaken. "Where is he? _Where's my son?!"_

 _"Safe_. He's got a different family, now. He's with people who understand him. Who'll take care of him."

He stared at her. Samantha found herself sifting through her greatest fears. _No, he couldn't be..._

"Say it, Kellogg." She clenched her hand around his neck again. _"SAY IT."_

She _needed_ him to say it. Needed him to confirm that it was true. What she'd secretly been afraid of all along.

"The Institute."

Sam's heart cracked like ice. Her hand slipped, coming to rest on the mercenary's shoulder. She was practically leaning against him for support now. _Him_ , the man who'd taken away everything she'd ever hoped for.

But she couldn't think straight. Her mind was frozen over. Everything Piper had tried to warn her of came crashing back into her head. She'd been so ready to have Shaun in her arms again. But now that was gone. He'd grown. He'd moved on. He didn't need her anymore.

Kellogg reached up and rested his hand on Samantha's. His touch felt like death itself, but in that moment, her whole world was spinning. She couldn't even bring herself care.

"Fate deals from a pretty wicked deck sometimes," he said, consolingly. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I bet he would've loved you, if he'd had the chance"

She looked up at him, empty sadness mixing in with broken rage. "Why, then? Why do it? Why take that chance away? We did _nothing_ to you. _We didn't even know who you were."_

He shrugged. "Told you, I'm just a puppet. A drifter, doing as I'm paid. It's nothing personal. Never was. But I understand you'll never think of it that way. So... I guess we both know how this has to end."

His hand tightened around her wrist and twisted hard. Pain shot through her arm, forcing her to pivot in place, yielding to his hold. She stumbled to the ground and felt a boot against her back. She felt True Need pull free from her hand.

"This is a nice gun. Oh, and look at this! You even named it. _Cute_. I bet you think you're better than us, born before the bombs fell. This'll make a pretty souvenir."

"H- hey!" Piper's voice filled the room again, shaky and unsure. _"You_ leave _her_ alone!"

She felt Kellogg let go of her. She turned instantly to look up at him. At both of them. Piper had her pistol drawn, but she was flanked by synths.

"You're in no place to be making calls." His voice was lower now. The way she had remembered from the cryopod. "I can have those guards open fire with a _thought_. This is gonna end for you the same way it's gonna end for her."

He gestured behind him towards Samantha, though he didn't turn to actually look at her.

"The same way it's always ended. You, powerless, left to die. And me, walking away."

Sam's mind raced, desperate for ideas. She couldn't possibly compete with his arm strength. Any sudden movement risked getting Piper injured, maybe killed. She was at no angle to pull out her hammer. And True Need had disappeared.

But then, she remembered something small. Something bulging in her pocket. Something he had missed.

She reached down, withdrawing the singular grenade. She prayed, and pulled the pin as quietly as she could.


	104. Chapter 104

Piper stood, paralyzed with uncertainty and fear. Anxiety ruled her every muscle. They'd been _idiots_ , walking into Kellogg's trap like this. What the _hell_ did Kellogg know about her little sis?

And _Blue_. Was _Blue_ okay?

Kellogg continued talking to her, rambling, monologuing triumphantly. But in that moment, she had eyes only for Samantha. She felt, heard, noticed nothing else.

Blue was moving, assessing their situation. Their eyes never met, but that was probably for the best. Piper felt almost ready to cry, for all the tension welling up inside of her.

But then, she saw Blue pull out the grenade, and place it — armed — between Kellogg's legs.

 _Blue,_ she thought. _I don't know what I want more right now. To kiss you, or to kill you_.

She focused her eyes back up on Kellogg. She couldn't let him notice what her friend had just done. Couldn't let him take a hint from her distracted glances.

Her bluff held. He didn't seem to notice how her gaze had shifted temporarily, nor the sudden smirk that she was trying to restrain. But he _did_ take notice of the sound as Sam took off from behind him, ducking for the nearest source of cover.

She saw as Kellogg looked down and figured everything out just in time. She hadn't been exactly counting down the seconds, but she guessed that it was time. Blue had gone for shelter. Piper did the same.

The synths turned to face her as she ran back out of the room. The look of blank confusion on their faces stuck in Piper's mind, before the explosion rippled through the walls and knocked them to the ground. She saw the opportunity, and took it, running back inside to shoot them while they were still knocked prone.

She practically felt bad for them. _Poor things don't know any better_. They were just doing as they had been programmed. Killing a synth — even an Institute-controlled one — was never easy for her. All she could think about was the potential for intelligence that they were throwing in the dumpster.

But now was not the time for sympathy. She let the feelings pass right through her, and fired.

 _It's just tactics_ , she told herself. In those first moments, taking out these synths was the best thing she could do to help. It evened the playing field. Gave them only one target to worry over, even if that one was _Kellogg_.

The two synths nearest to her were down, but a third was firing at her from across the room. She took a painful hit to her left shoulder, before she had the chance to duck. Once sufficiently hidden, she took a second to breathe, trying to process out the pain.

The burning sensation seemed to fade with every breath. She holstered her own pistol and scurried across the floor. Between the two synths she had already taken out, one of them had dropped an Institute pistol. The other one had dropped a full-on _rifle_.

The time for sutblety had passed. She grabbed the larger of the two guns, stood, and fired.

She missed the synth, but hit something else instead. _Kellogg_ flashed into view, illuminated by the laser's light. Was Kellogg _stealthed?_

Piper called to get her friend's attention. _"BLUE!"_

She pointed with another shot, faster than she could come up with the right words to explain. She hit him a second time, causing his body to glow again. He also grunted from the pain, giving away his position even more.

Samantha got the point, and charged — _colliding_ with him like a thunderbolt. For a woman that claimed to not be strong, she swung her hammer with a speed and force she would have sooner expected from a soldier. It was incredible, the focus she had. The fire in her eyes, even visible from so far away.

Piper managed to pick off the last remaining synth, then turned her attention back to Sam's ongoing duel with the shimmering air that apparently _was_ Kellogg. She tried to aim her gun into the fray, but was too scared that she would miss and shoot her friend. So she did the only thing she could do — watch.

The invisible figure kicked her backwards and away from him, but Sam lunged back in with yet another swing of her hammer. He dodged her, but barely. Piper shot at him, enough for him to turn and shoot at her. But _that_ gave Blue the opening she'd needed. Another swing, and Kellogg's pistol flew clean out of his hand. Piper shuddered to think of what that must have just done to his fingers.

He grunted loudly and grabbed Samantha by her chestpiece, lifting her off the ground and running her straight into a wall. He wound up his still-good hand for a punch. Piper aimed her newfound rifle down its sights, and time came to a momentary standstill. _My turn, Blue_.

She fired six times in a row. Each yielding a harsher yell. Each causing him to glow more brightly, more opaquely. Finally, with the final shot, the Stealth Boy by his side exploded, and his cloaking field collapsed around him.

Samantha shoved him away from her and reaffirmed the grip on her mallet, sweeping his legs, and sending him to the ground.

Normally, Blue was one to go for a quick, hard blow to the ribcage. She'd aim to collapse vital organs, and make her enemy's death swift. At least, as swift as one could deliver with a sledge. But here, against _him_ , she aimed for anything _besides_ his core.

For a minute, Blue just plowed her hammer into him, screaming, crying. Finally, she stopped, and simply stood on top of him. Her feet were planted firm on battered arms. She breathed intensely. He coughed up blood.

"Well played, kid." His voice was raspy, broken. Dying. "I'll see you at the gates of hell."

Samantha drove her hammer straight through Kellogg's neck.

And it was done.


	105. Chapter 105

_He_ was dead. But instead of feeling satisfied, all Samantha felt was cold. Shaun had never seemed so far away.

At least her body felt alright. _Probably got the Med-X to thank for that_. But no matter how intact her body felt, her spirit had gone numb.

She kneeled down next to the bloody corpse that had been known as Kellogg. Slowly, methodically, she began to strip the man of gear.

"What are you doing, Blue?"

At first, Sam didn't respond. She didn't feel like she _deserved_ to talk with Piper. Sweet, kind, caring Piper. But the last thing she wanted was to push her friend away. She needed her in that moment more than ever.

"I'm taking everything from this man, just like he took everything from me. I'm not leaving him with a shred of decency or respect. If he's with the Institute, and they come back to retrieve his body, I want them to see what I think him. And them."

"Blue... you already broke all four of his limbs before he died."

"And he's lucky," Sam retorted. "Lucky that I'm not doing any worse."

It made her sick, to speak that way. But she could feel the venom churning in her heart. Her _hatred_ towards this man. She _had_ to let it out, or else it would stay bottled up in her forever. She didn't expect her friend to understand. She was ready to be chastised for her words.

All the more surprising, then, when Piper didn't walk away. Instead, she kneeled down right next to her. "Here, pass me anything you can't fit into your pack."

They worked in silence. But that was nothing new to them. Still, she would have welcomed Piper's voice. It always put her more at ease.

They packed his clothes away. Sam made a mental note to burn or scrap them, when she got the chance. With his body so fully exposed, it became quite clear how much damage she had done to him. His arms were bent and broken, but where a bone should have been sticking out, a metal servo took its place.

"All this _tech_..."

Piper nodded, looking as surprised as Samantha felt. "Guess he really _was_ part of the Institute."

Neither of them had the guts to cut him open, to see how much of a machine he really was. But they grabbed the parts that had fallen out, or at least had been already exposed. Even down to the implant in his head. They packed it all away.

And then Samantha grabbed his gun.

Out of nowhere, she began to cry. No sobs. No sounds. Just tears, pouring hot and fast.

 _"What's wrong?"_ The shock in the reporter's voice was clear.

"This was his gun, Piper. I saw it in the Vault. He used this gun to... to..."

She wanted to say it, but couldn't find the strength to. Piper scooted next to her, gently taking the weapon from her hands and packing it away. "It's okay Blue," she said softly. "I'll make sure it gets destroyed."

Sam hung her head, staring down at her hands. They were practically shaking.

Piper seemed to notice, too. Without a word, she pulled her gloves off, and clasped Samantha's cold hands with her own. The woman's skin was warm to the touch. Her crying slowed, but didn't cease.

"Oh Piper..." She looked up and lost herself in her friend's pitying gaze. "What am I supposed to do? Shaun's _gone._ "

"You'll _find him_ , Blue. And I'll be there for you. As long as you're willing to have me."

Sam sniffled. _Willing? I wish you would never leave my side_. Of course, she couldn't say that. She knew how silly it would sound.

"But... you're scared of the Institute."

Piper snorted. _"Terrified_ , more like it. Which is why we'll do it as a _team_. You give me the courage to be here. I could never fight these kinds of fights alone. And you shouldn't have to, either."

"Thank you. That means so much." Her tears were finally beginning to run dry. "But don't you have your own family to look after? Aren't you worried about _Nat?"_

"Again, Blue, _terrified_. But you don't think the Institute's wrapped up in that? I'd sleep twice as easy every night, if I weren't worried about them coming for her."

The woman sighed, and slowly rubbed the backs of Sam's hands with her thumbs. "Look, I'm not going to compare Nat to Shaun, but... we both have loved ones we want safe. I see no reason why you deserve any less than what I'd do for my own family."

Sam sat and stared, half in disbelief that anything was real. She was in awe at Piper's willingness, to fight so hard and care so much about someone she'd never even met.

They continued holding hands together in the cold, dark, quiet room. The only sounds that she could hear were Piper's breath, and Sam's own heartbeat.

"Hey," she finally said. "Can we go? Can we be... _not here?"_

"Sure, Blue. Back to Diamond City? Give you a chance to rest? We can check in with Nick, see what he has to say."

Sam nodded. They let go of each other long enough to get their packs on. Long enough to leave.

They rode a nearby elevator to the bunker's rooftop, and it was there that they emerged — victorious, but harrowed. The last traces of sunlight were still shimmering across the metal floor. Sam found it hard to lift her head, to face the world. The Commonwealth felt big, and scary. If it hadn't been for Piper, Sam would have felt impossibly alone. Even more than she had, back in 111.

"Uh, Blue?"

Piper's voice would have been enough by itself to snap her from her trance, but she started pawing at her too. Sam turned, looking up just enough to see her friend. But Piper wasn't looking at her.

She was looking to the sky.


	106. Chapter 106

Piper's mind was doing cartwheels, from everything that had changed over the course of that single day. Kellogg — found, and killed. Shaun — pursued, and lost. The Brotherhood — first thought insignificant, but now... now, _this_.

"Have you ever seen anything like that? The _airship?!_ God! They must have an entire army on that thing!"

"Army is right." Sam squinted off into the distance. "An army _usually_ only shows up somewhere if it's planning for a war."

"Or an invasion."

Piper felt ready to collapse. As much from the chapter of their lives that seemed, finally, to be coming to a close, as from the one that seemed poised to take its place.

"How are you _not_ against the Brotherhood, Blue? After everything that happened back in your time?"

Samantha stopped and turned to her abruptly. "Those are _not the same._ We _destroyed the world_ , and that's not even the _half of it_. Do you see the Brotherhood coming even _close_ to that?"

Piper gulped. She suddenly felt very small. "N- no... I... I'm sorry..."

Blue closed her eyes. Like a flash-fire, her anger left as quickly as it had come, revealing ash and sorrow underneath. "No, I'm sorry... come here."

She reached her arm around the reporter's shoulder, pulling her in close. Piper breathed. _Damn Blue, you can be scary when you take the proper tone_.

They started walking again. "Look," her friend continued, "I don't support the idea of a large, standing military. Or large-scale groups of any kind, to be honest with you. But you know what I'm against even more? _Ignorance_. I'm not about to judge an order without first truly understanding who they are. That was another fault of the old world."

Her gaze fell to the ground as they went. "Possibly the biggest one. Possibly the one that got us killed."

Piper opened her mouth, but closed it before any words came out. Blue had a point. Piper had just already largely made up her mind about them. Was she wrong for doing so?

"Still," Sam joked, "that airship was something else... _definitely_ something to ask our friend Danse about, if we cross paths again."

"Not sure I'd consider him a _friend_ , Blue..."

"Not like you, anyway." Did Blue just _wink_ at her? In the darkness, it was honestly difficult to tell.

She was proving difficult to read _at all_ , whenever matters of the Brotherhood came up. Like she was a woman of two minds about them. Piper caught herself imagining more heated conversations. Arguments in which Sam pushed her away. Even the thought of separation was enough to make her heart ache.

She thought back how she'd let Blue knock the door in, when they'd first stormed Kellogg's hideout. The same reasoning applied here, too. She needed to give Blue the space to do her own thing. Grow into her own identity. To find her own path through life.

But if that path was one that Piper couldn't follow down? What then? She couldn't say she wanted to part ways with Blue. She wasn't even sure she _could_ , anymore. Something about the woman would stay with her no matter what. Were they _really_ still just friends?

 _Shut up, Piper. That's a stupid line of thought, and it's the last thing Blue needs from you right now. If you can't just leave it well enough alone, at least deal with it later, when things are more alright. She's already lost Nate, and now she's lost Shaun. She's lost Shaun twice. You'd—_

"Hey you alright?" Sam's words pulled Piper back into the moment, shattering her worry.

"Me? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"Doesn't seem it."

 _Ugh. Can't keep anything from you, can I?_

She pulled Piper even closer as they walked. "Er, you don't mind?"

She shook her head. _Blue, how could I ever mind being close to you?_ She glanced over at the woman's Pip-Boy from the corner of her eye. Was it that late already?

"Well, let me know if anything out here starts worrying you." Sam reached down and brandished True Need jokingly. "I'll fend 'em off."

Piper chuckled faintly. "Blue, you didn't even use that against Kellogg."

"He did kind of _steal it_ from me."

"Oh, yeah, right." _And then you stole everything back._

"Then again," her friend continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if that airship scared most folks out of our way, for the night."

"No kidding. Goodness knows I'm scared, and I have a safe place to call home!"

"Home..." Sam sighed, leaning in on her shoulder. "Wish I had one of those."

"You could." Piper felt herself get a little tingly as she talked. "Home is where you make it. Home is what _takes care_ of you..."

She gulped again, and completed her thought. "You'll always have a home with us, Blue. Anytime you ever want it."

That... hadn't been too forward, had it? _Just beause you're taking your words that way, doesn't mean she is._

Still, she felt Sam's hold on her tighten just a little.

"Thank you, Piper. That means more than you could know. You and Nat... you've made me feel accepted."

Sam smiled — not by much, but just enough for Piper to believe her. That her words were heartfelt. That things really would work out between them, in the end.

Even so, she was afraid of forcing things. Blue had a lot to process. Questioning their friendship could afford to wait.

They had been through so much together, and Piper had internalized so much of it, mirroring the redhead's worries until they became her own. She didn't know what it felt like to have — let alone to _lose_ — a child, but she saw how deeply and powerfully she felt about him.

 _This story isn't over yet_ , she told herself. She was going to stand by her friend no matter what came next. This wasn't about writing for the paper anymore. This was about _them_.

Piper reached around and took Samantha's free hand with her own, stroking it gently. They still didn't have Shaun.

But at least, they had each other.


	107. Chapter 107

Piper had come into Samantha's life as an unexpected, unknown quantity. What was she even doing, allowing herself to feel such a close and caring bond with someone? Shouldn't she still be in mourning for her husband? It _should_ have felt wrong to her, she told herself. But nothing about it actually did.

 _Think about it later_ , she convinced herself. _You're in no state of mind to make any sort of calls like that. Not now_.

At least she wouldn't have to worry about being raided in the night. They were coming up on Diamond City — the safest place that she could think of. After all, they'd have the protection of the Wall, inside.

 _Look at yourself, thinking like them_.

 _What's wrong with thinking like them?_

The internal dialogue continued raging back and forth as they walked. Her sorrow for her past. Her hope for the future. On the one hand, Massachusetts. On the other hand, the Commonwealth. Did she even miss her old life, anymore? Things hadn't exactly been _pleasant_ then, but at least, they had been easy.

But even if she _could_ go back, what about the new world she'd been thrown into? The friendships she had accidentally forged along the way? Abbott. Arturo. Travis. Vadim. The soldier she'd helped out in Concord, Preston. The ghouls from Goodneighbor, whose lives and attitudes she had resolved to turn around. Hell, she'd miss _Nick Valentine_.

More than all of them combined though, she would miss the Wrights.

Being with the two of them — Piper especially, but Nat as well — Sam felt happy. Happy on a level she hadn't even felt before the War. But in feeling such joy, was she not condemning everything she'd lost?

She was grateful, in a strange way, for not having the ability to choose.

They passed through the city's gates in quiet. That kind of quiet neither of them ever seemed to mind. Their hands, practically glued together, did whatever talking there was left to do. Piper hummed to herself quietly as they went. _How does she keep that spirit up?_

They reached the height of the stairs, and Diamond City proper came into view. It felt familiar. Safe. Sam smiled at the sight of Publick Occurrences' big green sign. She thought about the first time she had visited. Nat's voice was nearly audible, in memory. _'You've never heard of the Institute, lady?'_

The naivete of her ignorance echoed in her head. The Institute was more than just a myth and bogeyman. It was real.

But they could fight it. More than merely _could_ , Samantha was already making plans to.

 _'And I'll be there for you. As long as you'll have me.'_

Piper's words still swirled around in Samantha's mind as well. The thought of them staying so close to one another made her head spin, even more than it already was.

But all of this processing could wait. They had reached their usual stopping point, just outside of Piper's office. Sam didn't want to walk away.

The stars were out in all their glory, that night. It was a _cold_ night, too, so really no one else seemed to be out and about. Or maybe everyone had run and hid, after witnessing that airship from the Brotherhood of Steel.

No longer walking, Sam realized just how tired she was. How _hungry_ she was. She figured Piper felt the same. They looked at each other with caring but exhausted eyes. The reporter managed just one word.

"Noodles?"

Sam's nose scrunched a little, remembering how her first (and last) experience with them had gone. But she was too tired to cook anything herself, and the food they had in the packs would probably be even _worse_ than what Takahashi could serve up for them.

If nothing else, it was an excuse for them to not part ways.

"Sure."

They sat next to each other at the noodle stand, just as they had the last time, after that first day on the road together. She leaned on the counter, pressing her head into her hands while waiting. Her body ached. Her skin tingled. Maybe it was from the Med-X wearing off. Maybe it was just fatigue.

The town's resident eyebot hovered over, paying them a visit. _Worry Worry Worry_ was playing from its built-in speakers. For a second, Sam wanted to shoo the floating radio away. But that required movement. She opted to instead simply suffer through the old-world music.

As she listened, though, she found herself surprised by something — or rather, nothing. Nothing came to mind. No painful memories about the past. No nostalgia. No heartbreak. Maybe she had just run out of hurt and longing for the old world. Whatever the cause, she welcomed it. It felt good not to be in pain, for once.

Finally, their noodles came. She hesitantly held the cup of broth up to her lips, and took a tiny sip.

It... tasted _good?_

Surprised again, but pleasantly so, she drank a little more. She hadn't been imagining things. The broth was _great_. The noodles themselves were hot but firm, and honestly delicious.

She looked over at Piper, who was already nearly finished with her own small bowl. The look she gave her was enough to push Sam over the edge. Her head reeling back through the absurdity of everything that had transpired, she had only one coping mechanism left. Not to shut everything out, but to let everything in.

She started laughing. Perhaps from the absurdity. Perhaps out of irony. Maybe just from the silly look on Piper's face.

At first, Piper looked confused. But as Sam's laughter continued, Piper started laughing too.

Sam looked around at the town surrounding them. The metal houses built from bits of hoarded scrap. And in the center of _Fenway Park_. She could practically feel the old world rolling in its grave. And she didn't care.

They laughed together into the night. _Let the past stay left-behind._

Diamond City felt like home.


	108. Chapter 108

They took their armor off outside, before Piper opened the door to Publick Occurrences. She led the way in — after all, she knew where the creaky floorboards were and weren't. She assumed that Nat was sleeping, considering how late it was. Assumed, but also hoped. Neither of them were in a fit state to deal with an energetic kid.

Especially not Blue. Not after today.

"You sure it's alright? Me staying over like this?" Sam's voice was barely audible. They were standing so close to one another, Piper could practically feel the breathing that accompanied her words.

She replied in equally hushed tones. "My idea, wasn't it?" The worst thing she could imagine happening was Nat waking them up in the morning. But in her opinion, the tradeoff was worth it. Worth her friend having others nearby, in case she got another nightmare.

And, if Piper was being honest with herself, she just didn't want to let Blue go.

But any dobuts that she might have harbored fall away, under the warmth of Samantha' smile.

Piper smiled back and pointed over to the couch, followed by a couple other gestures. After having snuck their way through an entire _bunker_ full of synths, they'd developed something of a rudimentary sign language. Now, trying not to wake Nat with their voices, it proved useful once again. It was certainly no substitute for conversation, but it got the point across. _[Go there. Wait there. I'll come to you.]_

Sam worked to suppress another laugh — treating the prospect of a loud, rambunctious Natalie as something to avoid with tactical maneuvers. Piper shared the sentiment, but they both got the point.

Piper made her way across the room. After getting into so many tight spots with her friend over the past few weeks, she'd noticed some of her own mannerisms changing. Blue's protection had afforded her the opportunity to explore a different aspect of herself. A quieter, more thoughtful side. In combat. In conversation. In everything between.

Of course, at the end of the day, she was still the same curious, pushy, nosy little loudmouth that she always had been. And Blue didn't seem to mind it in her at all. That in itself was a miracle. Throw in everything else that made her friend so wonderful, and could she really blame herself for wanting to spend so much time together?

She poked her head around the wall of cinderblocks that set apart Nat's room. _Poor thing_ , she'd left the light on by her bedroll. For a second, she considered kneeling down and kissing her on the forehead. But, no, it wasn't worth the risk. Blue looked ready to fall asleep standing upright. The last thing she needed right now was a bouncy preteen.

Sam had already set herself up on the couch. She'd kicked her boots off, wrapped her hands around her legs, leaned her face into her knees. She looked so powerless, curled into a ball like that. It made Piper want to gather her up into a hug. To whisper words of reassurance and support into her ear, until she was as soundly asleep as her own little sis.

Blue got up off the couch as she approached. They laid the bedding out together, and rearranged the cushions to make it more of a makeshift bed. Looking down at the improvised arrangements, she felt a final momentary pang of doubt. She should've just let Sam go back to the Dugout. Let her sleep in a comfortable bed.

But she couldn't deny the butterflies it gave her, imagining that Sam might someday feel just as comfortable here as well. Imagining the two of them — _three_ of them, counting Nat — together.

Once the couch was all set up, Piper turned to Blue, and fought the urge to hug her. She smiled, as if to say, _'I know it isn't much...'_

She couldn't put words to the soft smirk that her friend gave back, but knew she meant well by it.

And then the unexpected happened. _Sam_ hugged _her_.

One second, they were standing, smiling at each other. The next, Blue's arms had wrapped themselves tightly around her torso. More unexpected still, Piper instinctively hugged back. Like it hadn't come as a surprise to her at all.

Blue leaned her head against her shoulder. Piper allowed one of her hands to trace its way over the top of her hair. She could feel the other woman breathing. It was nearly enough to make her faint. She prayed Blue couldn't feel how fast her heart was thumping.

They stayed there for a while. Longer than most folks would have been willing to. Neither of them seemed to care. Maybe they were just too tired. Maybe it was something else.

Piper was the first to step away. _I could've fallen asleep like that._ But she knew that was out of the question. Blue needed to know people were there for her, but she also needed space.

 _[I'll be upstairs,]_ she signed.

Blue nodded. _[Thank you.]_

Piper climbed the stairs up carefully and quietly. Sam disappeared from view — and with her, the warmth and lightness in her chest. She waited for a minute, listened for when no sounds of any kind came from downstairs. And then she stepped outside.

It was one of those few moments when she was truly grateful for having a home with a separate upstairs exit. She closed the door behind her silently, and dove into her pocket for a cigarette.

The need had been biting at the back of her mind ever since the airship. Maybe even before it, though things had been so hectic then, she'd barely processed anything at all. That hug from Blue had gone a long way towards dispelling the tension in her, diminishing the need, but not freeing her of it entirely. She'd probably just have one.

And so she sat, and smoked, and pulled her trench coat up around her.

She had a _lot_ to think about.


	109. Chapter 109

Samantha _ached_. At first, she'd felt alright — enough for her to step out for a walk around the city. For her to check in with one of her newfound friends. Turned out, her body was in worse condition than she'd realized.

"Hey Valentine, would you mind if we sat back down?"

Nick gestured to a nearby bench without a moment's hesitation. He always seemed a bit more chipper when the sky was clouded over. "Changed your mind about walking and talking, huh?"

"Maybe I just felt like sitting down again, alright?" Sam grumbled as she lowered herself into the seat. Her whole body was still sore, in spite of the full night's sleep. And that was _after_ having taken Med-X to soften Kellogg's blows. She sighed. "Still, conversation helps."

The synth nodded, easing himself down beside her. Sam fought the temptation of a laugh. _Look at us,_ she thought _. What a pair of relics_. Admittedly, she didn't know _how_ old the detective was. But given how much he'd let on — and how much he hadn't — perhaps he didn't even know.

"Look," he said at last. "I know the night just got darker, but it can't last forever."

Samantha's eyes and throat started to sting again. Before she even started talking, she knew how hard it was going to be to make her words come out. But it deserved to be said. She'd come to him as much to report in as a client, as to seek help from a friend.

"Nick, he's _gone_ , and I have no clue to how even dream of finding him. _The Institute..._ "

"You've only got a dead killer's word on that."

"I guess? But I believe him."

He raised an eyebrow. She laughed sarcastically. "I know, I know. Never thought I'd say something like that either. But, what reason could he have had to lie to me? I _hated_ him, Nick. But he didn't seem to hate me back..."

"Which is why he fought you to the death, right?"

"That was his _job_ , Nick. What he'd been _built to do_." She stared up at the sky. "Even if he was barely human by the end, I can't help but think he meant his words. That he was sorry for the things he'd done."

"Barely human, huh?" Nick's voice brought her gaze back down to earth. "You mentioned something 'bout that when you first came in. If you haven't tossed those synth parts yet, I'd be interested to take a look."

In her tired, harrowed state, Sam glazed past the detective's words. "Sure Nick, sure. Just not now, okay?"

He nodded sympathetically. "We can talk more about what happened between you and Kellogg later."

Sam nodded back in thanks. She leaned forward, burying her face in her palms. "I just feel so _lost_ , now. So _alone_..."

"You could be a lot less alone, if you opened yourself up to it."

"Well, yeah." She smiled just a little. "That's why I came over to visit this morning. You're a good friend."

"And you're a good partner," Nick responded, smiling. "It's not often you find someone you can truly work with, these days. Especially when you're a synth."

Sam's own smile gave way to a caring, if disconcerted, frown. _So what if you're a synth?_

Nick tilted his head just a bit, giving her a knowing stare from just under the brim of his fedora. "But I was referring to someone else. A _different kind_ of partner."

For a second, Sam just stared back at him blankly. But then she grasped the meaning of his words. Started piecing everything together. Her heart began to beat just a bit more intensely, and she raised both eyebrows.

 _"Piper?_ But... we said we weren't like that. She said she didn't _want_ that." Her head raced back through memories of prior days and weeks. She'd certainly _thought_ her friend had said that. But, now that she was trying to pin it down, she couldn't actually find the words. Had... had it really all just been in her head?

Nick's voice turned serious, practically confrontational. "Listen, Red. The Commonwealth plays by a different rulebook than the one you're used to. If you like somebody, you go after them. Now _do you like her?"_

There was a long pause, emphasized by the morning quiet. Samantha's heart and mind were at war.

The synth rubbed his nose. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me. You don't have to—"

"No," Sam interrupted. "By which I mean, yeah. I... I do like her. I like her a _lot_ , Nick."

"It's not exactly your best kept secret."

She snorted quietly and shifted on the bench. Sam was getting butterflies just from thinking of the woman. Nick continued talking.

"Look, kid... It's not my place to say what you should decide, but I'll tell you this. I've seen you two work together. And Ms. Wright smiles around you like I've _never_ seen before. I don't know what it is you do that captivates her, but you could give her an honest shot at happiness. That might have been a common thing in _your_ day, but—"

Sam shook her head. "It wasn't."

He nodded grimly back. "I know."

Nick stood, turning to offer her a hand up. "If nothing else, she's one of the few who would be willing to stick with you on the road ahead, no matter where it leads. But I think I've made my opinion clear enough. How are _you_ feeling?"

Sam accepted the assistance standing — his mechanical arm was surprisingly strong, or maybe she was just unusually tired. Honestly, she felt a bit lightheaded from the conversation. "Like I need more time to breathe. More time outside."

"Always plenty of that to go around. Maybe take your _friend_ out for a stroll."

Sam smirked a little from the synth's sarcastic emphasis. She knew he meant well. She even knew that he was on to something. Something liberating. Something _true_.

She just couldn't admit it.


	110. Chapter 110

The more of her story Piper shared, the tighter her sister's grip on her became.

"An _airship?!"_ Her eyes were wide, her body practically trembling. "Like... like the ones we've seen from _Lady's_ day?"

The reporter smiled — not lighteartedly, but lovingly. This was her. This was what she belonged doing — telling people stories, getting out the truth, helping somebody she cared about to see the magnitude of what was going on. It meant a lot to be appreciated.

She'd been feeling appreciated quite a lot, lately. And not just from her work on the paper.

"Wish I could say." She set her mug of coffee down and used the free hand to hold onto one of Nat's. "It was definitely different from the ones that we've seen, torn up on the ground. It looked _bigger_ , if I'm being honest. And it didn't have the giant wings on either side." Although, on second thought, it did bear metal wings of a symbolic kind.

Piper squeezed her hand and let go, standing up, pacing back and forth. Recounting the prior day's occurrences was making her anxious. Movement helped. Just like candy and caffeine, it offered a distraction from her ever-spinning mind.

Nat fidgeted in place, remaining seated on the couch. Piper blinked. She was curled up like Blue had been last night.

The young girl seemed to read her mind. "Sis, do you think Lady will be back soon?"

The thought of Blue alone was enough to make her warm. She tried to cover up her feelings with a shrug, but Nat clearly didn't buy it. She'd learned to hunt the truth too well. Piper could feel her sister's gaze narrow, drilling into her.

"Are you two _alright_ , Piper?"

A chill ran through her body as a sigh escaped her lips. She'd been afraid of getting asked something like that. She continued pacing across the room, trying to formulate her words. _Any_ words.

"Wish I knew that too, kiddo. It's complicated. Blue's got so much happening to her right now. We're not a _step_ closer to finding her lost son. But she's worn herself so thin, getting her hopes up, just so they could fall. And she's still in mourning for her husband, right? I mean, at- at least I think she is, or... or she should be, right? So how—"

"Sis, stop!" Nat held up both her hands. "I mean, like, are you two _okay?_ Like, from fighting the bad man?"

Piper stopped, and blinked. "Oh. I... uhm..."

She turned away to hide her blushing. In her bid for honesty, she'd said too much. "Yeah. Yeah I think we're both fine. She took a few hard blows, but they seem alright."

A deeply telling silence hung between them.

"Sis..."

She turned back around and stared Nat in the eyes. There was nothing for it but to say the words.

 _"I like her."_

Silence again. Nat stared back, her face expressionless. No smile. No nod.

"Oh, yeah. I know!"

"Wait, you _know?_ Nat, _I_ _didn't_ even know! How did...? When did...?"

The girl started giggling at her shocked, stuttered words. Flustered, overheated, she crossed her arms in scorn. "Well, you could've told me!"

Nat got up and came over to her. Piper had stopped pacing. Stopped moving. Her whole body remained tense, even as the young girl gave her a hug.

"It's alright, sis. Lady's great. I like her too."

Piper freed one arm from her sister's embrace and used it to stroke her hair. _Not like this you don't_. But she knew what Nat meant. They got along so well, all three of them. Blue was compassionate, heartfelt, beautiful, just. And to top it, she was... _Blue_. The shining image of the pre-war world she'd always so admired. The match was good beyond belief.

And that was just the problem — it was _unbelievable_.

Nat's arms squeezed tight around her torso, forcing her absent mind to harken back to where she was. Who she was with.

And then the door knocked.

Her sister stepped back and looked up at her, grinning. "Hey, how much you wanna bet that's her?" She ran to answer, before Piper could come up with a reply. The door swung open, and... _sure enough_.

"Welcome back, Lady!"

Piper coolly, stealthily leaned back until she was resting against the locker. She crossed her arms and pretended everything was normal. _Oh, yeah, hey Blue. Don't mind me, just standing here... crossing my arms. Like a... crossy-arms person..._

But Sam seemed thankfully distracted. She returned Nat's hug, and gave Piper an understanding look. Like all she cared about was that they were together. Piper gulped just a little.

Blue spoke. "Hey..."

Even that first word was enough to make Piper react. She stood up straight, focusing in. _As if you've not been focusing on her all morning. Quit lying to yourself._

But there was no need for Blue to know what was going on inside of her. She allowed herself to smile.

"Something I can do?"

Suddenly, it became Blue's turn to wear the nervous grin. "Uh, possibly..." she managed. "I know yesterday was rough on us but... you feel like going for a walk?"

Piper was mute.

"You _bet_ she does!" Nat yelled. "Ain't that right, sis?"

She stared at the girl pleadingly. _Natalie_ , she imagined herself saying. _Save me_.

With a sigh, she looked back up to the redhead. Correction — the _gorgeous_ redhead.

"I mean... if you're sure you feel up to it, Blue..."

Blue seemed to wince, but nodded. "I think so, so long as we take things easy. But we could stay here instead, if you'd like."

Piper felt herself get uneasy. She _would_ like that — to sit Blue down on the couch beside her, to hold her hand and help her to forget about the pain. And that was precisely what was _not okay_ with the idea. _After all_ , she told herself, _it's not like Blue feels the same way about you_.

She gulped again.

 _Right?_


	111. Chapter 111

Hiking hurt. Samantha's body seemed to argue with her every step. But she wanted time alone with her companion, and Piper had seemed averse to the idea of staying holed up in the Publick.

So there they were — on the road again, as they had been so many times before.

They traveled light, fitting everything they needed into just one pack. Piper insisted on being the one to carry it. On the one hand, Sam couldn't complain. On the other hand, she felt quite silly, travelling with little more than the hammer on her back.

They talked, but not about the things that really mattered. Maybe they were each still in recovery. Maybe she was pushing Piper too fast, or too far.

After a couple awkward silences, she reached down to her Pip-Boy and tuned into Diamond City Radio.

 _Sweet little dream, that keeps trying to come true..._

Piper smiled at the sudden music, but also quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "I thought you didn't like listening to DCR. Reminded you of your past and all that."

"Not anymore," Sam said. "Not around you. You make this new world bearable."

The reporter's eyes widened. "Oh, wow, uh... th- thanks, Blue. I'm not... entirely sure how to respond to that."

"Don't need to." She reached out casually with her hand, but failed to connect with Piper's own. Whether she'd moved her hand out of the way on accident or otherwise, she couldn't tell. But it was enough to dissuade her. They walked side by side, but separately.

Sam sighed quietly. _Maybe that's for the best_. Where they were going, she couldn't say that holding hands with anyone would be entirely appropriate.

* * *

They held hands the entire way across the bridge.

"Watch your step." Sam pointed more than once to what looked to be a faulty floorboard. Piper nodded, or responded at most with a "right." It seemed that both their minds were elsewhere.

Coming up to visit Sanctuary didn't _have_ to be a big deal, but Samantha was allowing it to be. She still wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. But she'd decided to let things pan out however fate saw fit.

She felt hollow as they walked. The feel was reminiscent of a rad storm — like she was being gutted from the inside out, with every step that she took, closer to the epicenter of her past. The houses seemed to blur by, but they stood out at the same time, like a dream — hazy, but discernibly unreal.

They did their best to avoid running into Codsworth. Sam led the way, ducking behind one of the ruined houses. It felt surreal; back in her old life, she never would have walked so carelessly through her neighbor's yards. But none of that mattered anymore.

Piper didn't say much. She seemed overwhelmed from taking everything in. Sam kept largely quiet too, if only because she was still fighting through so much internal pain. Pain in her body. Pain in her heart.

"Blue."

The nearly-whispered nickname caught her by surprise. "We... you don't have to—"

"I know." She did her best to speak reassuringly. "But I _want_ to. This place... what's up here... it's part of who I am, now." Her words were as much to convince Piper as herself.

Samantha led the way, retracing her footsteps like they were no more than a couple hours old. In the back of her head, screams and sirens flickered in and out of memory. Everywhere she looked, she expected to see the saccharine colors of the past. She could feel her two halves fighting. The new world still felt somehow _wrong_ to her, but the life she'd lost no longer felt right, either.

They passed the fence. The one that had held civilians back at gunpoint. The thought of it was still enough to make her sick. They climbed the hill together, until the Vault itself came into view.

She felt like she should cry. She wished she _would_ cry. But all she felt was hollow. A reminiscent chill fell over her.

"We saw it, right before they took us down." Her feet felt like lead as she walked up to the platform. Up to, but not _on_.

"The bomb. Just one of them, but it was enough."

She reached for Piper's hand. This time, the reporter gladly took it. Her words were quiet, humble.

"I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"Neither can I. So much it still feels like a continuous bad dream."

She pointed vaguely towards what remained of Boston's skyline. "It happened over thataway. It was taller than the clouds, and hot. Like getting a sunburn all at once."

A long sigh escaped her. How could she explain what it had been like? To see the mushroom cloud, to feel a lifelong fear come true in a single moment? To _know_ without words that your entire world had seconds left to live?

"Y'know, I'm almost glad Nate didn't make it. One less person alive to bear the pain."

Piper leaned against her. "He's still down there, isn't he?"

She nodded. "I guess... we could go down there, if you want to."

"Do _you_ want to?"

Sam laughed. "I don't know if I can think of any place I'd like to visit _less_."

Piper stepped back. Sam allowed their hands to part.

"Then hey, let's go. Don't get me wrong, Blue, this means _so much_ to me. You sharing all of this? I'm speechless. But if you're not happy here... why stay?"

Honestly, Sam had no valid answer. Part of her still wanted to just curl up here and die. But Piper had given her a reason to keep going. The reason that made sense to her most — _people worth staying alive for_.

It helped that she was also so enamored. In that moment of weakness, she probably would have agreed to _anything_ that Piper had suggested.


	112. Chapter 112

Piper sat down against the wall of the old abandoned house, and fiddled with the cigarette she'd snuck into her pocket. _Don't_ , she told herself. _She'd smell it on you and you know it_.

She could have sat there in the cold and argued with herself for a while. To muse on how stupid she was being, thinking she had _any_ chance with the redhead-out-of-time. But then, a man approached her, and suddenly she had company to deal with.

Preston Garvey. _The Last Minuteman_. Another headline to another article that she still had yet to write.

"I guess I owe you an apology," she said after a moment's contemplation. "I still haven't written up that article about you yet."

The soldier chuckled. "Hey, maybe that's a good thing. Now, you can add in mention of the settlement we're establishing up here!"

"True that," she admitted. "Something pleasant for a change." Since as far back as she could remember, she had been a fan of trying to rebuild. Of not just letting the husk of the old world remain. The War hadn't ended the world, after all. It had only ended _their_ world. _The World that Was_.

The world Samantha came from.

She turned to look at Preston. "Hey, you didn't see Bl— I mean, _Sam_ , on your way over, did you?" Using the woman's true name still felt weird to Piper, even in it's shortened version. Like it wasn't hers to say.

The man shrugged. "Figure she's still off talking down that old robot butler. Hard to believe he's still intact and running after all these years."

Piper nodded. But a sense of unfinished conversation hung between them, still. Preston knew there was more going on, and Piper _knew_ he knew.

"It's... been a long couple of days."

He nodded sympathetically.

Hell, it had been a long couple of _weeks_. Ever since Blue had come into her life.

"And Blue's been pushing herself. Way too hard."

"You mean Sam?"

 _Sigh_. "Yeah, that one."

Preston nodded back, seemingly oblivious to her inner tension. "She mentioned something of that earlier, I think. When you both came down from the old Vault entrance. What were you two doing up there?"

Piper shrugged. "Talking, mostly."

"About the past?"

 _Nod_.

The cold breeze blew by for a minute — long enough for her to feel the stinging in her lungs — and then:

"Is she _really_ that old?"

"Everything points to it." Piper curled up just a little as she spoke. "I mean, I guess I could've asked to _see_ the cryo pods she'd talked about, but..."

Her words trailed off, as she became more insecure about them. _But I'm afraid of pushing her._

As if on cue, Samantha stepped into view that very moment. Preston stood to welcome her back almost instantly, and Blue exchanged some minor pleasantries with him. Then, she turned and looked to Piper.

"Could I talk with you in private, for a minute?"

Piper felt her face flush warm despite the cold.

"I'll go check in with Sturges," Preston interjected. "But I want to hear your answer before you leave. Alright, Ms. Sam?"

Blue nodded, and sighed as soon as he was out of earshot. Piper stood herself up, using the wall behind her as support. "What's the matter, Blue?"

Samantha looked at her meaningfully — almost longingly. "Nothing's the matter. I just needed time away from everyone."

Piper felt her blush intensify. _You need time away from others, but not from me?_

She struggled for something to say out loud, though. "Uh... how's Codswallop doing?"

"Cods _worth_ ," Sam corrected, laughing as she did so. Piper could almost feel her heartbeat soften from the sound.

"And he's fine, mostly," she continued. "He just seemed worried that the new arrivals were going to step on his roses."

Piper blinked. "But... Blue... he—"

"Doesn't _have_ any roses growing. I know."

For a second, she expected Blue to laugh again. But then, she didn't. If anything, Sam looked ready to cry.

"It's a lot to be reminded of, y'know? I mean, I... I don't mind how much these people are rebuilding, I just..."

The redhead folded her arms, and drew in a deep, telling breath. "I don't know if I could call this home again."

It was Piper's turn to sigh. "This is about Preston's idea, isn't it? For you to help with bringing back the Minutemen."

 _Nod_.

She fumbled for the proper words. "Listen, Blue. You don't have anything to prove. To him, or me, or the Commonwealth or _anybody_. But Sanctuary or no Sanctuary, you could do a lot of good out here. For a lot of people."

The woman frowned and turned away. Piper felt her stomach drop. She reached out, resting a hand on Blue's shoulder.

"Hey, look at me..."

Their eyes met. Piper gulped involuntarily.

"You could do a lot of good, but only if you're _ready_ to. Whatever you do... if it isn't coming from the heart, it's better that you wait. Do the job _right_ , for everyone you care for. They deserve it, and so do you."

Samantha smiled. It was enough to make her forget about her urge to smoke entirely, let alone the cold.

"You're not half bad with words, you know that, Piper?"

"I've sold a couple articles in my time." The reporter leaned in and gave her companion a playful nudge. The sass served as a useful cover, too. Cover for what was really going on in Piper's heart.

She'd tell her. That much, she had resolved. It just wasn't the right time.

The redhead reached up and grabbed her nearby hand, holding it and rubbing gently with her thumb. "Hey, let's go catch up with Preston and get out of here, hmm?"

Piper nodded, a playful enthusiasm creeping back up into her. She'd missed this side of their relationship. "Get out of here, huh? You got anything in mind?"

Blue's smile turned radiant. "With us together? 'Anything' sounds just about _perfect_."


	113. Chapter 113

The bridge to Sanctuary creaked beneath their feet. The breeze was cold, and seemed to be picking up. But, leaving town the same way she had entered it — hand-in-hand with Piper — all Samantha felt was warm.

Several paces down the road, she chuckled quietly. "Guess he got my note back at the Rexford after all."

Piper smiled at her as they walked. "You mean the old Vault-Tec rep? That was so great, getting to catch up with him before we left! He let me do an interview with him and everything!"

"Thought I saw that going on, while I was wrapping up with Preston."

The reporter nodded. "So, what'd you two agree on?"

"We're both going to think about it. What we'd each expect out of the other."

"Seems fair." Piper reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of gum, which the two women promptly split.

And so they walked together — due south, mostly — talking about nothing of importance, and having the times of their lives while doing so. Samantha didn't even turn on Diamond City Radio. Piper's voice, she had come to realize, was an even better comfort.

Piper sighed a happy, telling, sigh at one point. "Blue," she said. "You—"

But Sam suddenly stopped, holding up a fist for silence. Her friend followed suit instinctively. Sam felt bad, cutting her off like that. She'd been keen to hear what Piper had to say. But she had heard something. Or at least, she thought she had. For a moment, the only sound between them was the breeze. But then she heard it again, coming from a nearby house.

 _"Please, help! Anyone! They're going to kill me!"_

Sam turned to Piper, who immediately started signing back at her. _[Weapons out. You lead.]_

The redhead nodded and took point, reaching for her hammer as she went. She suddenly remembered just how much her body ached — the level at which every muscle, every _bone_ , seemed tired.

But that would have to wait, just as she had made it wait since Kellogg. Someone in the house ahead was desperately in need.

* * *

 _"Fine._ Just get the hell out, all of you!"

The bald man with the shotgun didn't have to say so twice. All three of them bolted out — Piper, Sam, and the man they'd heard crying for help. The man supposedly accused of being a synth. Not that he particularly _looked_ synthetic.

Samantha ran alongside the accused man long enough for him to thank her, but eventually fatigue took over, and she had to stop for breath. Piper patted her gently on the back. She had been there next to Sam for every step of the negotiation, and it showed in her expression. She was _glowing_.

"Blue, that was _beautiful_. Convincing them to stand down like that. You just saved his life! I'm—"

But Sam interrupted her. "Save it... but thanks." She spoke between breaths, trying her best to smile. "Did you see which... way he went?"

The reporter blinked, and slowly pointed. "Uhm, that way I think. Why?"

Sam took a deep breath in and did her best to stand straight. "Why? What if he really _is_ a synth? Maybe he's about to go and meet up with the Institute. This is a _lead_ , Piper. C'mon!"

And as quickly as she'd stopped, she started up again, driven by the chance — however slim — to find out something new about the Institute. And maybe about Shaun.

Mile by mile, hour by hour, they tracked the man across what felt like the whole north side of Boston. There weren't many landmarks left for Sam to measure by, but over time, the city's skyline fell behind them, and the sun got ever lower in the sky. Clouds started rolling in as well, and the cold breeze seemed to pick up even more.

They also worked to keep their distance. At one point, while Sam was in the lead, she saw the man stop and look around. Both women dropped to the ground at the same time, and ducked behind a nearby car.

Piper made the sign for _[detected]_ with a questioning look on her face. Sam answered with a shrug. There was nothing for it but for them to wait, and see if they'd been seen.

 _For a noisy reporter_ , Sam thought, _Piper's really good at playing stealth_. It was one of the many things she was beginning to admire about the woman. Or, at least, beginning to admit she had admired for a long time.

The brunette spoke in the quietest of whispers. "Looks like he's moving on."

"I see it too."

Piper stood up first, turning to offer Sam a hand. She accepted it gladly, welcoming the excuse for them to touch. For a moment — even after both of them were standing — neither one seemed willing to let go. Their eyes met, and the cold around Samantha seemed to vanish.

The image flittered through her mind like a lightning flash, momentary but astonishing. Like a daydream that happened all at once, she imagined the two of them forgetting about the other man, dropping everything they had, and _kissing_.

As quickly as the thought had come, it also left. But it had been enough to make Sam be the one to pull away.

Piper blinked obliviously. _[You ok?]_

"I'm fine," Sam stuttered, hoping that she wouldn't pick up on the lie. They turned and started following their mark again. For all that yet another day of traveling was tiring her, Sam suddenly found herself feeling wide awake.

Together, Sam and Piper followed the man to an old, familiar sight. Rounding the corner of a building, they saw him walking up stone steps to a small encampment, walled on all sides, great stone obelisk still standing in its center.

Sam blinked. "Bunker Hill?"

Piper nodded. "Curious place to seek refuge. But yeah, Blue! This is Bunker Hill."

The reporter took a second to compose herself. "This, is my old home."


	114. Chapter 114

Piper led the way up the steps and into town, past the wall and past the wall's security. And directly — she discovered — into a certain young girl's con.

"Hey, miss!" The little redhead's voice was clearly practiced. "I'm Meg. You new to the Hill? For ten caps I can give you a tour. _Nobody_ knows the place like me."

Sam snorted out a quiet laugh. "Is that right?" she said back teasingly.

Piper rolled her eyes and interrupted. "Blue, don't. This is just a scam she pulls." Meg looked up at her and scowled.

But Blue held up a hand as if to say _[hang on]_ , and knelt down to get on the child's level.

"So, a _tour_ , you say." Blue's tone was unexpectedly confident. "Does that tour include the access tunnels down in the utility basement?"

For a second, Meg and Piper both stood speechless. How the hell did _Blue_ know about the ins and outs of this place?

But the older redhead wasn't finished. "Or what about the parts of the Obelisk that they tried replacing, back in 2045? Guess that would all just be _'before the War'_ for you. But look!"

She pointed up to the stone spire behind them. Piper turned to look, same as Meg.

"See those exposed bits? Those are all the spots where they tried to reinforce it. Figures, that they'd be the parts to fall off first..."

Meg looked back at Sam, clearly stupefied from being so outplayed. "What... _who are you_ , lady?"

Piper worked to suppress a snicker, if only for Meg's accidental copying of Nat's mannerism.

Sam smirked, clearly having fun. "Me? I'm nobody, just a paying customer." She reached into her pocket and withdrew the caps Meg had originally asked for. "Here, you take these, and don't even worry about giving me the tour. But, next visitor you try to pull this stunt on? You be _honest_ with them, and you actually show them around."

Meg stared at her blankly for a moment, before dashing off without a single word.

The woman stood back up and shrugged at Piper. "Maybe it'll sink in."

 _"Blue!"_ Piper's hands flew about as she strugged for the right expression. "Why... what... _how_ do you know _any_ of that?!"

Sam took a half-step closer to her, and dropped her voice to a whisper. "I used to work here as a summer job, back when I was still in school. I was a _real_ tour guide."

Piper shook her head, laughing. "What am I gonna do with you, Blue?"

Sam laughed back softly. "Keep me, I hope!"

 _I wish you'd actually ask me to._

But there were other things that _had_ crept up in Bunker Hill since Blue's time. And so, Piper took her on a walk around, pointing out the shops, though most of them had already closed up for the night.

"Closing a little early," Blue noted. "They scared of something?"

"Yeah, actually." Piper pointed up into the clouds. "That."

The rain came first as just a couple drops. It didn't _smell_ irradiated, which Piper took as a promising sign. But still, one could never be too cautious with what fell out of the sky.

"Come on," she said. "Lets get some shelter of our own."

She led Sam around the back end of the settlement, to the Savoldis and their little inn. And not a minute too soon, either; the rain was picking up, and _quickly_.

They pulled up seats at the bar, and Piper reached over, resting her own hand on top of Blue's. "This one's on me, okay?"

Samantha gulped and nodded. If Piper didn't know better, she could have sworn that Blue was actually _blushing_ from the contact. It was enough to make her let go and face forward, trying not to blush herself.

They both ordered food and drink. It wasn't Diamond City quality, but it sufficed. Ironically, it seemed that _Blue_ was stomaching her meal better than Piper was.

Neither of them talked much, which Piper simply chalked up to exhaustion. _There had better be an open room_ , she thought. But getting a word in edgewise with the owners was a little difficult. Joe and Tony had a habit of perpetually going at each other.

"They're not even people," the older of the two said, rebutting some argument from earlier. "They're goddamn synths."

Piper opened her mouth — whether to ask for a room or to throw herself into the bickering, not even she could say — but before she could say anything, Samantha's voice cut in.

"Hey now," she said, cooly. "One of my best friends in Diamond City is a synth."

To Piper's surprise, Blue went on to have a very reasonable conversation with the two men. About synths and humans, their similarities and the question of their civil rights. Her pre-War education was showing, and it was honestly a joy to listen to.

She paid the cost of dinner, and a pair of sleeping bags. They got up from the bar, and started heading to the stairs. Before they made their way up though, another man came walking up to them. To _Blue_ , specifically.

"Pardon me," he said politely. "I couldn't help but overhear you at the bar. I was just wondering, do... do you have a geiger counter?"

Piper blinked. _That's an odd question to ask a stranger_.

Blue tilted her head too, as though thinking the same thing. "I think I do, actually." She gestured to the Pip-Boy on her arm. "Why?"

"Oh! Uhm," the man stammered. "Nothing, I just... you can never be too careful. Radiation everywhere and all. G'night, miss."

Blue waited a moment for the man to walk off, before turning to Piper. Perhaps from the wild twists and turns that their day had taken, or perhaps purely from exhaustion, they both started giggling at once.

"What..." Blue said between laughs, "was _that_ about."

Piper shook her head, grinning. "It's Bunker Hill, Blue. We get all kinds of folk through here."


	115. Chapter 115

Samantha woke up, and only _then_ remembered that she had fallen asleep. A cold sun shone through even colder morning air. The tin roof overhead was still dripping water from the night before.

And goodness, it looked _foggy_ out.

For a minute though, she simply lay there resting. It was nice to not be in a rush.

It seemed that Piper wasn't up yet either. Though Sam hadn't turned her head to look, she could hear the woman next to her. God, her very _breath_ was starting to become familiar.

She shifted slowly in her sleeping bag. Everything still hurt. How many days had it been since Kellogg? Two? What day even _was_ it anyway? Rolling over, she fiddled with her Pip-Boy. _Nov 12, 7:48 AM_. Hard to believe that it still kept the date and time right after two-hundred years.

Oh, and it was a Saturday, too. _Thanks Pip-Boy_. She figured they should try to get back to Diamond City before nightfall today. Be there for Nat before she got bored and blew something up.

 _Look at yourself, thinking about her like she's family_.

Slowly, she began to work on getting up. None of her stumbling seemed enough to wake the other woman — evoking just a single quiet mumble, cute enough to make Sam wish that she could curl up next to her until she woke.

But she figured that might not go over well with Piper.

The redhead stepped outside, and drew in a deep, revitalizing breath. The air was crisp and welcoming. Sam wasn't exhausted anymore, so much as she was simply sore. _Really_ sore.

Bunker Hill had to have a local medic.

* * *

The doctor assessed her, commenting on her soreness and what it all seemed to be pointing to. Possibly a hairline fracture, she had said, but it was impossible to say for sure without an x-ray.

"You should swing by Diamond City, next you're able," she said. "Then again, though... that means you'll have to deal with Sun."

Sam suppressed a laugh, while also wincing through the doctor's tests. "Look... can I just get a Med-X already?"

The medic rolled her eyes. "Sure. _Excuse me_ for being curious. Name's Kay, by the by."

Sam stepped around to the patron's side of the counter. Not that anybody else was up to care about such protocols, but still. The doc pulled out an all-too-familiar syringe and set it down between them. "Caps?"

Sam nodded, laying out a handful.

The merchant nodded back. "Now, you want a hand with that, or...?"

"I got it." Sam grabbed the needle and guided it into her bloodstream second-nature. _You aren't weak for needing this_ , she told herself.

Kay raised an eyebrow. "How did this all happen anyway?"

Sam described the fight with Kellogg and the synths protecting him. It was painful for her to recall it in such vivid detail, but maybe it was for the best that she had somebody to talk it out with.

"Damn," the doc said, at the end. "Sounds to me like you're lucky to be in one piece."

"I guess?" Sam said. "But... there was something off about the man. Like he'd had all the life sucked out of him. Almost like he was expecting to die."

The other woman listened intently. "How many days ago was this?"

"Two, now. Night of, uh... Thursday, I guess."

"Thursday? Like, when the _airship_ showed up?"

"Yes! Precisely!" Sam leaned in on the table some. "What do you think that's all about, anyway?"

"Who knows? Ain't the first time we've had Brotherhood creeps mucking around in the Commonwealth. Hopefully they're here to solve more problems than they cause, but you know how most hopes wind up."

"Burned and buried in a pit of nuclear rubble?"

Kay blinked. "That's... a more colorful way of putting it than I'm used to hearing. But yeah, same idea."

"Sorry." She let out a long sigh. "Life's been hard, lately."

 _"Lately?"_ Kay rolled her eyes for a moment, but then leaned in on the counter too. "It's alright, kid. I know the feel. Everyone does. World's a right mess, next to how they say things used to be."

"Doesn't feel like it right now," Sam chimed back positively. "With all the fog from last night's storm, you can't tell at all what things are like out there."

"Fair, that!" the doc admitted. "And what a storm it was, too. But hey, at least it wasn't black rain."

Sam stared blankly. "What's black rain?"

 _"BAD._ _Pray_ you never live to see black rain. You seriously never heard of it? The stuff that came after the atomic war? Still shows up from time to time?" Kay squinted at her. "You been living under a _rock_ , sister?"

"Closer to it than you might think." She pointed to her Pip-Boy. "Vault dweller."

"Is that right?" the other woman folded her arms. _"Meg_ says you know more about these parts than we do."

"Oh, you know Meg?"

"She's my _daughter."_

Sam laughed out loud. "Ha! She's great! Clever idea, charging for a tour like that. Does she get a lot of customers?"

"Not as many as she used to. I think the caravans are catching on." Kay shrugged as she spoke. "It's alright. She'll figure something else out next. She's clever like that."

The redhead smiled. "Cleverness goes a long way."

"You'd know, keeping the likes of _Piper_ for a traveling companion."

"Oh, I guess Meg told you, huh? Yeah, Piper's really something special. She and I are... uhm..."

And then she paused to consider her wording — at exactly the most awkward, implicating moment. Sam blushed, realizing what she'd made things sound like, and tried to clarify. But Kay's raised eyebrow said everything.

In the end, Sam coughed and straightened up, surrendering the conversation. "Thanks for the painkiller."

"And for chatting," Kay added. "Not often folks as nice as you come through."

Sam smiled back in thanks, and headed back to check in on her friend.


	116. Chapter 116

Piper got dressed as quickly as she could.

 _Blue, you better not come in right as I'm getting changed_. Granted, Sam had seen her mostly undressed once or twice before. But even so, she wasn't sure she could bear to go on another walk with her if another such run-in was going to be on both their minds.

But she didn't come in, and Piper got dressed just fine — reflecting while she did so. On her life as a reporter. On her friends, and moreover her lack thereof. On the future and the past. On _everything_.

She thought about how many others must have stayed here, through the ages. Thought about what it was like when she was young, when she and Nat had lived here for a little while. She remembered Meg's words, back when the girl had been a tiny little thing, and Piper had still been young and vulnerable. _'Only strangers sleep there,'_ Meg had said. _'You're not one of them, are you?'_

 _Guess I am now_ , she thought. Her mind continued wandering afield as she buttoned up her trench coat. She thought about the passage of time. About what her past had been like. How far she and Nat had come.

She paused for a minute, boots halfway laced. Something had suddenly occurred to her — it was obvious in retrospect, but she had never actively thought it through before.

Blue had been there the entire time. Her whole life. Vaulted, frozen, deep below the earth.

Of course, Piper had had no context to know about her back then, but — she shivered to think about it like this — Blue hadn't changed _at all_ when she had been in cryostasis. Piper had grown. Samantha hadn't.

What if Blue had come out ten or twenty years ago? She could have been a role model to Piper in her youth, perhaps even the mother figure she had always craved. Hell, what if she came out another ten or twenty years _from now?_ Piper would be that much older, guiding the young woman with a wisdom that she still had yet to gain.

But no, Samantha had to come out _now_. When they were the same age. Or close enough, at any rate, for Piper to have accidentally formed a crush on her.

To think of time and age as such a malleable thing was enough to make her head hurt. She focused back on lacing up her boots and pulling on her gloves. She donned her press cap and stepped outside to greet the morning — just as Sam was stepping up the stairs.

"Oh, hey!"

Piper gave herself a quick once-over, just to make sure she looked the way she wanted to. And then, _the image_.

"Mornin' trouble," she taunted. "Where we headed today? Quincy? The Glowing Sea?"

"Har har," Sam teased back. "Actually, I was thinking back to Diamond City. Check in with Nat, and all."

Piper nodded in agreement. "It's... Saturday, right?"

 _Nod_.

"Cool, got it right for once!"

Sam laughed a little. "You seriously lose track of time that much?"

 _I do when I'm with you_. But Piper held her tongue. That was _not_ the right way to admit her feelings for the woman. Instead, she simply shrugged.

"I guess." She pulled her trenchcoat's belt tight around her waist. "So, you ready to hit the road?"

Sam's gaze rested on her for a moment longer than she was used to, before blinking away and smiling at her innocently. "Yeah, let's do it."

—

The creak of the city sounded muffled more than usual. _Probably the fog_ , she figured. On the one hand, she was worried about the possibility of stumbling into an ambush. On the other, at least the odds of being sniped were next to nil.

As they walked, though, the sun drew higher in the sky, and the mist slowly went away. All that remained were clouds — _beautiful_ clouds. The massive, wispy ones. She wondered quietly at where they came from, and what happened to them when they disappeared.

Blue would probably know. She knew everything about the world, it felt like.

She considered opening her mouth, but the redhead beat her to it — on a completely different matter.

"Piper... do you ever think about why we're such good friends?"

She felt a butterfly take flight inside her chest. Her mouth started responding before her mind could. "I do," she said, smiling on autopilot. "If you ever figure it out, let me know. It'd probably make a great advice column."

Sam rolled her eyes and nudged Piper playfully. She smiled back. This was so much better than what everyone had made relationships sound like, when she'd been growing up.

 _So why push it, then?_

Her doubt was back, and biting at her. _I'm not pushing_ , she told her inner voice. _I just need to ease her into it_. She'd start with a conversation about other things. What she'd said about Nat. Goodness knew she'd been going over it again and again in her head.

She drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth. "Blue, you got a—"

But suddenly, Sam's hand reached out and grabbed her own. "Hey! You're a fan of Hubris Comics, right? Look over there!"

Piper blinked at her, more than a little bit disgruntled by the interruption. But she turned and looked to where she was pointing. Sure enough, there it was — the classic Hubris logo, just atop the entrance to an abandoned storefront. How had she never noticed this place before?

She turned back to Sam, who had an unusual fire in her eyes. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Piper sighed. That was the second time that Blue had accidentally gotten in the way of an important conversation. But she was more head-over-heels for Sam than even she had realized. She _couldn't_ say no to the excitement on the woman's face.

"Any Grognaks we find go to me and Nat, ok?"

Sam smirked back understandingly.

And they were off.


	117. Chapter 117

The interior of Hubris Comics turned out to be one giant incinerated mess. Sam looked to Piper, disappointed. But the reporter read the thoughts behind her expression instantly.

"It's alright Blue. Everything is like this nowadays."

Sam tried her best not to frown. Piper raised a valid point, though — they'd done surprisingly little rummaging through the interiors of buildings. Vault 114 notwithstanding, their time indoors had been minimal, and on accident at best.

Maybe that was for the best, too, if all of it was like this. A not insignificant part of Sam wanted to walk back out that instant. She had no need for yet another grim reminder of how much had been lost.

But they continued searching, filing through cabinets and clearing off shelves. Sam switched on the flashlight to her Pip-Boy—

And suddenly a feral ghoul was running straight towards her.

She barely had the reflexes to dodge, and yell, and draw her hammer. But she did it. Her weeks of practice on the road with Piper were starting to pay off. The reporter came running over, pistol drawn, but Sam brought her weapon swinging down before she could unload a shot. The wretch was dead.

But ferals never came alone.

"Hell of a date, Blue," Piper teased. Sam frowned at her again. The last thing she had meant to do was drag the two of them into a fight. But now, they'd drawn the ghouls' attention. Running would only get them so far.

And so they fought, keeping close to one another as they went. They took their time, moving carefully and quietly, signing directions to each other. They got the jump on an aimless feral more than once. The rest, they took out with bullets and swings.

Still, more than once, an errant noise made Sam jump. More than once, a trick of the light had caused Piper to grab hold of her. She caught herself wishing there were time for them to do more than just hold hands.

 _Stop that_ , she told herself. _You've got nothing to prove she likes you back the same way_.

Room by room, floor by floor, they ventured their way up through the old comics shop, swinging between moments of confidence and fear. Sam stopped to pick the occasional lock at times as well, showing off for the entertainment of her friend.

Or, if not _friend_ , then whatever the hell she and Piper were becoming.

It felt sometimes like she could almost hear Piper drawing in a breath, as if to say something. She felt an empty space between them — not an awkward gap, but a void ready to be filled. A conversation waiting to be had. Perhaps the only one left between the two of them and _actually_ kissing.

Or between the two of them and parting ways indefinitely.

But then the woman chimed in innocently, and all that worry dissapated. "Where do you think this all leads?"

Sam smiled but shrugged. "They never let customers this far up. Think I remember hearing that there was some sort of studio at the—"

But in that moment, ascending the stairs to the topmost floor, _it_ was suddenly upon them.

Luminescent, putrid green, and faster than any other ghoul she'd seen, it lunged, and all Samantha's fears of teeth and death and radiation crashed together in an instant. She felt its fangs sink into her and shred.

Even with the Med-X numbing her, bolstering her, she could feel the wrongness and the pain. The hammer she'd been carrying slid out of her hands from the shock. She tried to knee the feral in the chest, but it was not enough to knock it back. She felt her shoulder start to run hot with blood from where the cretin's teeth had sunk into her skin.

Precious fractions of a second having gone by, adrenaline finally began to pump through her, giving her a strength that no clean medicine could match. _Nothing for it_. Not that she thought that — everything had boiled down to _feeling_ in that moment.

She wrapped her arms around the ghoul and ran. The smells of flesh and ozone and blood and _hurt_ all blurred together into one as she moved, ramming herself and the ghoul into the nearby wall. It was enough to jostle the monster away from her. Enough for her to reach down with her good arm and withdraw True Need.

Sam must have fired a dozen shots, but her brain refused to properly keep count. All she knew was that she'd done enough to cripple the feral's leg, reducing it's lunge to an escapable hobble.

A hobble that Piper was able to take advantage of.

Sam had only heard the reporter yell in combat once, _maybe_ twice, before. She came barreling down on the ghoul, beating it to the ground with the side of her own pistol. Slamming a boot down into its back, she fired two rounds into the rear end of its skull. And as quickly as it all had started, it was done.

Sam felt the adrenaline in her begin to give way. She stumbled forward a step and leaned on the railing of the stairs. She could move her injured arm, but it hurt. Even with the Med-X.

"Fuck."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she felt the other woman's arms around her, guiding her to sit down on the floor. "I'm not that bad," she grunted.

"I know you're not," the reporter growled back, trying her best to hide her true expression. "But you're _about to be,_ if you don't get yourself cleaned up. Glowing ones will wreck you without the proper treatment."

Piper crouched down next to her and shuffled in her bag. Sam closed her eyes and felt the throbbing in her side. _Glowing ones_ , she thought. So there were more like what she'd just had to face. Yet another case of collateral damage from the War. Fallout begetting fallout, in ever-more-twisted ways.

If only she could make it go away.


	118. Chapter 118

Piper cracked a stimpak open over Blue's bitten, festering shoulder. She could hear the redhead gritting, _grinding_ her teeth in pain. "It supposed to hurt that much?"

The reporter frowned. She remembered the first time she'd had this treatment pulled on her. How much she'd screamed.

"Ferals carry a _lot_ of bad diseases," she explained. "You'll be lucky to only be out of it for a day or two." _Especially seeing as you gave yourself next to no time to recover from Kellogg_.

Sam winced, and sighed, and nodded. "I'm sorry," she said.

Piper felt her anger subside, coalescing into something else. "For what?" she asked. Now, Piper already knew _exactly_ what. But she wanted to hear Blue say it anyway. She wanted to hear her say it in her own words.

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes through still-gritted teeth. Piper snorted back. "Hey, this was your idea, Blue. If you want to learn how to survive out here, you gotta think moments like this through. You've got to _get it."_

"Yeah," she said, grunting. "Yeah, I get it."

Piper sighed. "Sit still, I'm hooking you up to some rad-away."

She did her best to avoid eye contact with the woman, but occasionally she caught a fleeting glance, and it gave her goosebumps every time.

Sam reached up to her at one point, weakly grabbing on to her. It was enough to make Piper drop everything that she was doing. Blue had that effect on her.

"I'm sorry... for diving in here on a lark." She coughed between sentences. "I'm sorry for getting us in over our heads, and not thinking things through. I'm sorry for not taking care of myself... and for scaring you because of it."

Piper nodded, and returned to her work, hooking up the intravenous fluids to her arm. "Well, you certainly do get it." _Kinda wish you didn't. Wish you'd leave me something to teach you_.

"Just promise me one thing, Blue?"

The redhead's eyes showed how much she was listening.

"Don't ever apologize for taking me on an adventure."

* * *

An hour passed, or maybe two. Certainly long enough for Piper to scour the top floor of the building. She'd found a couple comics, tucked away in drawers, miraculously still preserved. And she had found something else, too. Something special, if a little bulky. Maybe something she could convince Blue to try putting on sometime.

The rad-away had worked its magic, and Sam claimed to be feeling better. Better enough for them to be on the road again. They had both agreed, though — _no more detours_. Diamond City wasn't far off, anyhow.

Sam wouldn't be sore like this forever. She'd recuperate, and adjust, and grow. And once she was feeling better, they'd team up again with Nick, and slowly chip away at the greatest mystery in all the Commonwealth. They'd _find_ the Institute. And they'd bring back Samantha's son.

It was a beautiful, alluring, _impossible_ dream. She looked over at Blue longingly, but the woman was busy looking up at the buildings that surrounded them. Like she was trying to get her mind off something. She gave the redhead a very gentle nudge.

"Cap for your thoughts?"

Sam snapped out of her trance, catching up to Piper's words. She forced a quiet laugh. "Been running low on caps, actually. Sure, let's see..."

The woman took a moment to pull her words together. Piper didn't mind; it gave her time to admire the old-world architecture in her own way. The sun was getting low, but they'd be back to Diamond City with time to spare. Time enough to make sure Sam could see a proper doctor.

"Honestly?" she said at last. "I was getting ready to ask you what was on _your_ mind."

Piper groaned. _Cheap_.

Blue seemed to catch the implciations of her tone. "Okay, but I'll elaborate!" She gestured up towards the buildings all around them. Everything in sight was _city_. "I was wondering what all of this must be like for _you_. You seem to admire it, almost _miss_ it. But... you were never there to know it..."

"So how do I miss something I never had to lose?"

Sam nodded quietly, still wincing on occasion as they walked.

Piper felt her heart sink, pitying the woman's pain. _Anything to distract you, Blue_.

"It's weird," she opened. "Missing something that you never had. But... you know that others had it. Or at least, you're damn well sure. Like, there's no way that all of this just _happened_ , right? This took work. And work takes people. And people... well, they had lives. Lives that all of us live in the shadow of, but know nothing about. We owe everything, our entire past, to them. But nobody knows anything about them. All the records from before your time are _gone_. All we have are whispers in the dark."

The redhead's expression had _distant memory_ scrawled all over it. "That's beautiful, Piper," she said at last.

Piper shrugged. "Ah, it's nothing. I just ramble sometimes. And too much, as it is."

Samantha stopped. "No you don't."

Confused, the reporter stopped walking too. She looked back at her and blinked. "What?"

 _"You don't."_

Her words were quiet, but they carried the authority of rolling thunder. "You don't _ramble_ , and _especially_ not too much. I actually really like it when you talk. You voice your feelings shamelessly. You're heartfelt and sincere. It's one of the reasons I like you _most."_

Piper could feel her cheeks flush red. _The, uh... sunset will cover it up_. She wasn't used to having to take compliments like that. Usually she could skirt around them, or just brush them off. She squirmed under the redhead's appreciation.

"Hey... thanks. That means a lot, Samantha."

They walked the rest of the way back in silence. Piper's choice of name seemed to have made an impact on the woman. Just like she'd intended.

Blue had said it. She'd said the words.

She _liked_ her.


	119. Chapter 119

Sam sat up on the patient table. Doc Sun gave the new x-ray photos one last look, before turning back to her and grumbling.

"I hope you realize just how lucky of an idiot you are."

Sam chose to simply breathe, and stare, and wait. She wasn't in the mood for arguing.

In the absence of pushback, the doctor simply led her back outside. Piper stood up, clearly worried about her condition.

"How is she, doc?"

"I nearly suspected a head injury," he said at first. "Given how bad your judgement seems to be. Why, it's been barely a week since I had to pull a whole machine-gun out of you! Have you learned nothing?"

 _Now hang on,_ Sam thought. _I've not got a single bullet in me_. But she took his point. "Just... what are my options, doc?"

"Options? _Rest._ You've got at least two hairlines, and more contusions than I could count. _And stop taking Med-X!"_ He wagged a finger at her, knowingly. "All it does is let you push yourself more, when you ought to listen to your body's signals and relent."

Piper looked at her, confused. Sam sighed and focused on the ground. No hiding anything, it seemed.

"I'm recommending you stay put for a week. _No fighting!_ I'd say no strenuous activity, but I'm not sure you're physically capable of being that compliant. I'm also prescribing you a micro-dose of Buffout for your convalescence."

Sam grimaced. "Is that really nec—"

"Yes, it is," he retorted. "I've done this with patients plenty of times before."

Then, he looked at her, and something shifted in his expression. He took a step closer to her, waving a hand to shoo Piper back. The man dropped his tone to an exasperated whisper.

"I get why you're afraid, but don't be. You're at zero risk of relapse."

Sam stared sideways at him, not sure whether to be shocked, impressed, or grateful.

"It's a smaller dose than anything you'll find for sale," the doctor said, raising his voice again to normal levels. "Just enough to stimulate repairs. Come back in the morning; I'll mix the compound into a batch of stimpaks for you overnight."

Sam sighed and nodded, pulling out her caps stash and emptying it out. "I'll get you the rest tomorrow. Thanks."

She threw her overlayer on — still wet with blood from where the glowing feral had attacked her — and stepped outside.

The sky was clear — not a cloud or a trace of fog in sight. The sun had set, and the stars were coming out. What a day it had been. What a week. What a life.

"Blue..."

A familiar touch came — hand resting against Samantha's good, uninjured side.

"Are... you ok?"

She shook her head. "I don't even know where I'm going, now. I'm clean out of caps. I can't afford a night at the _Dugout_ , and I've still got some of the doctor's bill to—"

"He'll waive it."

Sam paused, and turned to face the reporter head on. She continued her words with unusual determination. "I'll _make_ him waive it."

Sam felt her heart rise a little. _She cares so much for me._ She tried to show her thanks by smiling, if only because words were failing her.

The bustle of Diamond City carried on around them. A group of guards chatted audibly in the background. The smell of Power Noodles filled the air. A cold wind circulated the marketplace, and a pair of kids ran by. But in that moment, Sam had eyes for only Piper. And Piper, it seemed, had eyes only for her.

For a minute, they just stood there. Each one quietly admiring the other.

And then they hugged.

Piper's arms felt strong and tight around her. She'd missed this. It wasn't the first time they had been so close, but there was something different about this hug. Last time, they'd been guarded with each other. This time, there was practically no barrier at all.

The reporter's voice came as a whiper, lips practically brushing against Samantha's ear.

 _"Come back with me?"_

* * *

"Nat, we're home!"

Sam had heard her friend say the same words countless times before, but something about it this time felt different. For lack of any actual difference, she chalked it up to herself, and her heightened sensitivity. Sensitivity to pain, and sensitivity to Piper.

The girl popped out from behind the cinderblocks that sectioned off her room. "Hey sis! I was wondering wh— _Lady!"_

She tried her hardest not to laugh, but failed. Watching Nat come running up to her, with barely a passing hug to the reporter, she couldn't help but feel like she was somehow stealing some of Piper's thunder.

But the child made her forget all about her insecurities. The way she grabbed her hands and jumped up and down, all Sam felt was happiness.

"Lady! Lady! I need your help!"

Well — happiness, and pain. Her arm was still extremely sore from their run-in with the glowing ghoul.

"Easy there, Nat," Piper interjected. "Blue's been through a lot, today."

"We both have." Sam crouched down to get on the little sister's level. She used one hand to make the sign for _[I'm okay]_ , hopefully in a way that Piper would take notice of. The rest of her stayed focused on the excited schoolgirl.

The reporter grinned and winked at her, signing back in the affirmative. Nat, oblivious to their exchange on the sidelines, began blurting words out at her.

"Lady, I'm doing my first ever science project! And I have _no idea_ what I could be good enough to do right. But _you_ know how things work, right lady? You could _teach me."_

Piper shook her head, listening in proudly. "The two of you..." she teased. She and Sam made eye contact one last time.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and try to write, alright Blue?"

Sam smiled and nodded.

She could get used to this.

She could get used to this a _lot_.


	120. Chapter 120

Writing was hard, but it proved possible. She had a draft, at any rate. And the sound of Sam and Nat collaborating downstairs was a welcome change from the perpetual hum of the terminal.

After a while, Blue took a break from working with the little girl and came upstairs. "Goodness" she said, "this place looks worse than Hubris did."

Piper frowned and looked around. "It's not _that_ bad," she said. But the more she looked, the more she realized that maybe it was. Nuka-Cola bottles everywhere. Crumpled papers, discarded ideas no one would even pay a _cap_ for. Gum wrappers. Candy boxes. Comics. Laundry.

She'd emptied out their pack after the fight with Kellogg, too. Broken bits of servos and processors, hooked up to synthetic organs, strewn across her dresser. A dozen stimpaks lay huddled in a corner — most of them spent, but not _all_. The list went on and on. She could write an aritcle about how messy her own office was.

She looked back to Blue. "You, uh... wanna help me clean it up a bit? I mean, so long as you're up here..."

Sam smirked back. "Gladly. I'll be tired in a little while, but not yet."

"Great!" Piper returned the grin. _Get you to myself for a little while._

They started by heaping together everything that had to go, and then by organizing what remained. They talked as they went — continuing their conversation from the way back to Diamond City, and branching out to other subjects as seemed fitting. It all felt very comfortable, practically familiar. Between the two of them, the room got cleaned up surprisingly quickly.

"Y'know, I was thinking" Blue chimed in at one point. "I could see about working part time with Arturo. Man the shop for him sometimes, slowly build back a supply of caps. Maybe learn a thing from him about repairs and modding while I'm at it."

"That sounds fantastic!" The image of an armor-clad Blue fitting in with the city locals excited her in more ways than one. She shook her head and laughed. "And here I was, about to suggest that you could work for Travis."

"Oh man, _Travis!"_ Sam swept the floor as she spoke, laughing in turn. Piper, for her own part, was organizing Grognaks. "I should check in with that guy again. Actually..."

Words trailing off, the redhead reached over and turned on her Pip-Boy's built-in radio. Travis was wrapping up a spiel about the airship that had just come into town.

"Great, more Brotherhood," Piper grumbled. "Thanks for the reminder, DCR. And they say _I'm_ the harbinger of bad news."

"It'll be alright," Sam reassured. "We'll figure out what brought them here. Or we won't! But either way, we'll get through this. I mean, we've each made it this far, right?"

Piper smiled warmly from the vote of confidence. _Where does she get it from?_

Travis' voice gave way to music — another relic from the pre-war archives: _Atom Bomb Baby_.

Sam paused mid-sweep and listened as the song. She got a distant stare — the kind she got when thinking back through time. Piper paused what she was doing and waited; the woman always had something interesting to say, in moments like this.

"Nate and I used to dance to this song," she said somberly. "He used to say the lyrics were about me. Said I was his little atom bomb."

The reporter suddenly felt a pang of remorse. "Blue, you can turn—"

But the woman shook her head. "No, it's alright. Hearing this will help. I need to let him go."

They keep cleaning. It was an oddly bittersweet mix for Piper, knowing the song had such a history for Blue, but also liking it so much herself. She'd always just been a fan just because of how peppy it was. She had never stopped to really _listen_ to the lyrics.

 _Atom bomb baby, boy she can start... one of those chain-reactions in my heart..._

She giggled. "Wow, Blue. This song really _is_ about you!"

Sam raised an eyebrow at her and dropped the broom. "Is that so, huh?" She strode across the room to her and grabbed her hands. "Then you've got to dance with me, just like Nate did!"

Piper gasped. "Blue! What? No, I... I'm no dancer!"

She shook her head. "Too bad. You brought this on yourself."

 _When she kisses, there's no hitch. Zero power, she turns on the switch..._

Piper tried to pull away at first, but Blue's grip was firm. So instead, she gave way to more quiet laughter as she tried — and _failed_ — to match the woman's footsteps. Yet Blue didn't seem to mind. She _wanted_ Piper there with her.

And so they danced together, to a song Sam hadn't been able to smile at for centuries.

Despite Piper's countless mistakes, Blue didn't complain. She seemed comfortable. Too comfortable. Like she'd freed herself from a distant pain, and had brought Piper in to fill the void. It felt _right_.

But that also made it feel a little wrong.

 _Atom bomb baby, little... atom bombbb!_

The song stopped, and for a moment that changed _everything to follow_ , the radio was silent. Silent enough for Piper to hear her own thoughts. Enough for her to reach down without even looking, and to shut Samantha's Pip-Boy off before the noise could start again.

Her one hand slipped, almost on accident, into holding hands with Blue's. Her other hand still held to the woman's side, slowly and unwittingly sliding to her waist. Piper's heart was beating fater than the tempo of the song had been.

Sixty seconds ago, they had been friends. Remarkable friends. Incredible, caring, compassionate friends.

But something in that dance had changed the game. No matter the adjectives, "just friends" couldn't cut it with them anymore.

They _had_ to talk.

Piper gulped, and opened her mouth to speak. Her words came out shockingly clear. Clear, resonant, and memorable.

"Blue, you got a minute?"


	121. Chapter 121

Piper sat her down quietly down on the bed. "You stay right here, okay?"

Sam nodded wordlessly. The reporter turned and headed down the stairs. "Hey Nat," she heard her calling "Can I, uh... steal you for a couple minutes?"

The noise of conversation between the two of them continued, but Sam wasn't paying attention. Her head was elsewhere — evidently just like Piper's was. She heard some shuffling, and then the sound of a door opening and closing.

The noise reverberated through the tin house. Sam fell backwards onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

What the _hell_ had she been thinking, pulling her into a dance like that? That song was meant for her and _Nate_. And sure, yeah, Nate was gone, but that didn't mean that she could invite anybody in to take his place.

 _Piper's not just anybody_ , she told herself.

 _Shut up_ , another part of her snapped back. _You haven't even known her for a month_.

 _You and Nate got together in less than a week, when you two were in school._

 _That was school!_

And so the arguing continued back and forth. Meanwhile, her eyes wandered across the corrugated metal, discerning and creating patterns in the rust. She could hear her breath. She could feel her heartbeat.

For minutes that seemed to pass like hours, Sam thought. About what she would say to Piper when she got back. About what Piper planned on saying herself.

She was _definitely_ interested in becoming more than just friends.

She thought about everything that had brought them to this moment. She thought about their adventures, their run-ins, and their talks. In the museum at Concord, after fighting hard for people she had barely cause to care for. Outside the access hatch of Vault 114, after rescuing Nick Valentine. The Dugout Inn, over five rounds of whiskey and a gun from the Brotherhood of Steel.

She thought about the first time they'd held hands, watching the sun set from the top of Diamond City. She thought about the last time, walking to the Publick almost like it was her home. Greeting Nat like she was family.

 _Family_.

Slowly, silently, she searched her pockets for it. Through everything that they had done together, she had kept it close to her, either in her pack or on her person. Like a talisman, waiting for its time.

She dialed down the volume of her Pip-Boy and slid the holotape into its slot, closing the casette case shut. The audio started out with a crackle and a whine. But then, she heard her baby's gurgled cry.

It was hard work for her not to cry herself. Sam closed her eyes, as much to suppress the tears as to give in to her imagination. Publick Cccurrences and all of Diamond City faded into memory — memory from a distant future she had yet to be thrown into.

For one last time, she was back in Sanctuary Hills. For one last time, she was there with Nate.

 _'Hi honey! Listen...'_

* * *

The words and sounds of Nate and Shaun played out like a requiem. She had no idea how long the tape would run, so at the end of every sentence, she caught herself bracing for the end, but also hoping that it wouldn't come. Hoping that Nate wouldn't say goodbye, even though she knew full well he had to.

 _'But everything we do... no matter how hard... we do it for our family.'_

And that was the line that broke her.

She held her hands up to her face, trying to rub the hot tears into her skin. She wasn't _crying_. She wasn't _sobbing_. All she had were tears. She didn't even feel sad. She just felt pain.

She leaned up off the bed, for fear of dampening the sheets. Nate's last words rang out through the metal room. _'Bye honey. We love you.'_

The Pip-Boy clicked.

And he was gone.

She opened her eyes. The world was bright and blurry — just like when she had first stumbled out of 111.

Deep inside her soul, the catharsis of her liquid heartbreak ran its course. Like a stormcloud had finally started dissipating, allowing the sun to shine through more than ever.

The tears slowed down. Her breathing steadied. _For our family_ , she thought.

But she was free to choose who her new family was.

She heard the sound of the door opening, followed by a single set of footsteps. _Her_ footsteps.

Sam dried her face off with the side of her shirt. The woman downstairs had no cause to suspect what Sam had gone through in her absence. Maybe is was best if things remained that way.

Nathan was behind her. Every manner of farewell that she could think of had been made. _Well... save for one_ , but now was not the time for that. Maybe someday, when things were different. When she was in a different place. A different state of mind.

She filed her last thoughts of him away, and just in time for the newfound woman in her life to step up into view. They both blushed at the same time.

Sam patted the side of the bed, as if to say _[come join me]_. She looked up at the woman, as though to follow up with _[please]_.

The reporter was sitting next to her in an instant, arm wrapping around her and pulling her in close. _This isn't a rebound_ , Samantha told herself, calming the last remaining traces of her inner demons. _This is moving on. This is choosing to live. It's exactly what he would have wanted._

Piper spoke first.

"I, uh... took Natalie over to Arturo's. She'd been asking to have a playdate with his daughter for a while, and I—"

Sam nodded, silencing her. Evidently, they were each as unsure about what to do next as the other was.

Eventually, she broke the silence with a stumbled laugh. "So, you uh... found a minute for _me_ yet?"


	122. Chapter 122

And so, they talked.

Blue listened, mostly, though it was clear that she was listening with focus. Slowly, the redhead opened up about how she truly felt, and Piper did the same. It went better than anything she could have hoped for.

And in the end, that terrified her. It was too good to be true.

Samantha gave her hand a squeeze — they'd been holding on to one another since the start — and asked a question.

"Is it so hard to believe that someone could fall for you?"

The brunette sat, stunned, in momentary silence.

"...yes."

Blue's grip on her loosened, but didn't go away entirely. A small, vindictive part of Piper wished she would. Wished she _would_ let go and walk out, never to return. At least then all her worst fears would be confirmed. Over. Done with. Better that than drowning in this perpetual worry.

"Blue, I... I know you've lost a lot of people." She nearly laughed at herself. _That's an understatement_.

Sam, for her part, simply nodded back. As if Piper had done — and was doing — nothing wrong. She breathed steadily as best she could.

"Truth is, I've lost a lot of people too."

She gulped, and shrugged, and tried to smile. "Dad, for starters. I know you know this. Mom too, but... let's not talk about her. About any of them." She bit her lip and kicked herself. She'd meant to only _think_ that last line.

Sam's voice was purely sympathetic. "Friends?"

Piper nodded. "Friends, colleagues, informants, leaders. Y'know, McDonough wasn't always the mayor of Diamond City. I remember the man before him. He was the reason Nat and I were able to set up shop here. He _loved_ the idea of a city paper. Helped arrange the printing press and everything."

She stopped herself. She was rambling. _Get to the point_.

"Nick chased the case for two years, but every lead turned cold. They never found him. Still don't know what happened to him."

Sam frowned. "Institute?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? Who even cares?"

She stood up and broke the hand-hold, crossing the small upper room. The house was clean, and she had Blue to thank for it. It was empty, and she had herself to thank for it. There was nothing in the way between the two of them. Except herself.

"After a while, Blue... you get burnt out. You stop trying. Heck, you start to push away."

Sam raised an eyebrow very slightly. "Can't say it's exactly worked. I'm still here."

"I haven't _tried it_ on you, okay?" She flung her arms into the air and turned away from her, pacing back and forth.

"I remember when I met you, locked outside the city gate. I remember how you stood up for me. Blue, you had no idea who I was!"

"Didn't need to," Sam responded, smiling. "I knew what you stood for."

Piper clenched her fists. _Why must you always know exactly what to say?_

She continued pacing. What she'd give for a smoke. A whole room full of smoke. Enough for her to choke and die in, safely numb to all the fear that a relationship would bring. _This is what I get for pushing it_ , she thought.

"I think... I've liked you from the start. _No_ , not like _that_ , just... it was obvious from the beginning that you cared. Do you _get_ how _rare_ that is these days?"

The redhead squirmed in place. "A little? Not as much as you do. You've had to live through so much more than me. Do _you_ get how much that means to _me?"_

Piper scrunched her eyes and breathed. _Blue, stop. Stop being flawless_. She was trying as hard as she could not to like her. Not to need her.

And none of it was working.

She sighed, and turned, and leaned against the wall. She just felt so tired.

"I _played you_ , Blue. I _wanted_ you to be my friend. I used every trick on you I had. Everything I'd ever learned from trying to get a story out of someone, trying to persuade a mark..."

Seconds passed, and a hand came resting on her shoulder.

She turned to look at Blue again. She was close enough for her to lose herself in every detail. Her tousled hair. Her sun-kissed skin. Her stormy eyes.

Sam smiled — gently, but wholeheartedly. "I don't think you played me at all, Piper." Her voice was thick, elegant, _crimson_ — if sounds were able to have a color. "I think you just showed me who you really are."

Her hand traced its way around to Piper's neck. She hadn't felt somebody touch her like _that_ in a _long_ time.

"And I think you know by now, what you are to me."

"Your friend?" She gulped as she responded. "Your... your girlfriend?"

Sam rolled her eyes admittingly for a moment, but also shook her head. "What you are to me, is _perfect."_

Piper laughed — a single laugh that echoed off the metal. It was the only response she had for such a compliment. "Perfect, huh?" she teased back. "That's uh... that's... that's a new—"

But then Blue _proved it_.

For a second, Piper didn't even realize they were kissing. Then, like a bursting dam, or the culmination of a symphony, it came together. Shock. Excitement. Electrifying joy.

The room was silent, but filled with music at the same time. Her worry vanished — or maybe it surrounded her — but Blue had taken Piper's breath away. She couldn't drown in fear if she had tried to.

One hand traced up the woman's back until it lost itself in her hair. The other wrapped around her waist, and pulled her in, as if to never let her go. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the world around her faded like a dream. Her entire world was Blue. The woman she _loved_. The woman who loved her back.

In that moment, Piper wasn't in the Commonwealth at all.

She was on cloud nine.

 **[End Act I]**


	123. Chapter 123

**[Begin Act II]**

Samantha hammered, loud and hard. The heat of the makeshift forge was practically enough to make her sweat – stark contrast to the cold that blew around her. The air had smelled of rain for hours. The sky looked ready to open up. But it didn't. And so Commonwealth Weaponry stayed open. Arturo insisted that they keep the radio on during business hours, but that didn't mean she couldn't make noise of her own. _Anything_ to drown the news.

In the weeks preceding, Diamond City Radio had been an escape for her. Something to help chase the deathly quiet of the world beyond the Wall. A bittersweet reminder of the life she'd left behind. Once, it had even been enough to make her dance.

She felt herself begin to blush. It was a different kind of warmth from what her hours at the workbench could produce. The kind that made you forget what it even meant to be cold and alone. She'd been feeling that kind of warmth a lot, lately.

But she'd also recently been fighting off a sharp and stinging chill. The kind that made your gut drop. The kind that came when you – or somebody you cared about – stood on the cusp of something terrible.

News was usually a slow affair around the Commonwealth. But not since last week. Not since _it_ had touched down in the night.

Publick Occurrences couldn't keep up with the flow of stories. The local airport, reclaimed from a colony of ferals in less than a _day_. A nearby pre-war fort, formerly a mutant stronghold, _cleared_. Samantha didn't know much about this _Brotherhood of Steel_ , but it was clear that they commanded power.

Power – as a certain other woman in her life was prone to pointing out – that seemed to outpace wisdom. Ghouls and mutants didn't simply disappear after being evicted. Travis seemed to have new reports by the hour of the chaos that the airship and its vertibirds had caused. Homesteads overrun. Settlements emptied. Families scattered. Raider gangs had surged in their activity, and no one tried or cared enough to stop them.

She hammered harder. The doctor would complain that she had pushed herself again. She didn't bother to deny the stinging in her bones. But even a hard day's work in Diamond City was a respite from the hell that awaited those outside.

Arturo had shown kindness beyond kindness, offering her part-time work over her past week of recovery. She could have simply manned the shop, earned her caps the easy way. But she didn't want to stand around and squabble with the passers-through, especially not with the radio on in the background. She wanted to _work_. She wanted to learn and train and _prepare_. Something was building in the Commonwealth, like the rain that had been threatening to fall since sunrise. She wanted to be ready, this time. Ready like she hadn't been back then.

It was worrisome thoughts like these that made her retreat into her memories. Memories, increasingly, of events not from before, but _after_ the War. Moments of humor and hope in the face of a world gone wrong. Long walks along broken roads, losing track of how much had been lost, focusing instead on who was by her side. Evenings spent with Nat, answering her every question about the past. Nights spent curled up, girlfriend's arms wrapped tight her, silently awaiting sleep. The sooner the dreams came, the sooner they'd go. Waking life was painful in its own way, but at least she didn't have to go through it alone.

Only when her repair job was finished did she completely come back to the present. Only then did she see Arturo standing next to her.

"I-!" She stammered, paused, and shut the blowtorch off before trying again. "You've not been standing there long, have you?"

He shrugged. "You were focused. I saw your face. Not the face of someone I'd disturb."

Sam smiled sheepishly. "I know, I get a bit carried away..." She tried to avoid his gaze. Talking to men in charge had always been her bane.

"Thanks," she said. "For letting me."

"You do good work! Why should I stop you?" He gave her a firm pat on the shoulder. "But, it _is_ closing time. Come, put your tools away."

"Already?" She glanced down to her Pip-Boy instinctively. Like so many other things, it had become a part of her new life; her new identity. The man was right. Even with Travis' background litany of bad news catching at her ears, today had flown by.

She packed her gear away, and helped her boss with closing up shop for the night.

"Hey," she opened, clumsily. "Y'know, I've been feeling better lately, and was thinking-"

"Take tomorrow off. It's yours." His answer came readily, and without even looking her way. "I will miss the extra set of hands, though!"

"I'll miss you too," Sam taunted back. And she was off.

She waved to Takahashi as she passed – not that he could return the gesture, but still, it made her smile to think of him as real. The wind cut against her as she exited the marketplace. She didn't like admitting it, but she _would_ miss working with Arturo. Diamond City was safe, and safety was alluring. The Wall's protection beckoned with an unmatchable luxury: _denial_. The temptation was stronger than any chem.

She got to the Publick's front door just in time to see it open from the inside. For a moment, the wind stopped. The cold stopped. _Time_ stopped.

"Piper." She smiled, despite the cold. "Hi."

"Hi, Blue."

The reporter's words filled her with an almost childlike warmth. Samantha knew there would be trying times ahead. People to save. People to fight. And she still had no clear sense of how to manage any of it. But all of that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, at least, for Piper and herself, everything would be okay. It wasn't denial – it was _normalcy_.

"Welcome home."


End file.
